


Lost Boy

by RenSweets



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, BAMF Sheriff Stilinski, Backstory, Broken Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Laura Hale Are Twins, Everybody Lives Nobody Dies, F/M, Fluff, Fox Stiles, Good Peter Hale, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapped Peter Hale, Kidnapped Stiles, M/M, Protective Peter, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Sick Stiles Stilinski, Sorry Not Sorry, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Teen Derek, Tortured Stiles Stilinski, ages are off point, alternate universe- supernatural is known, at least not by kate, don't touch stiles unless you want to die, fox/spark stiles, future sex, i love hurt stiles, it will be graphic, peter will fuck people up, plot holes everywhere, so far - Freeform, time jumps, to many tags, tramuatized stiles, werefoxes have magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenSweets/pseuds/RenSweets
Summary: His life was shattered before his eyes. So they ran, now in the company of the Hale pack in Beacon Hills things can only get better for Stiles Stilinski. Right?In a turn of events his life goes from good to horribly wrong, all in the blink of an eye.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Backstory about how Stiles and his dad come to Beacon hills. Featuring our lovely hale pack and possibly slightly cuddly peter hale?

**Lost Boy**

  


  


  


They blow in town a cop and his son, looking ragged and worn. They scent of grief thick in the air. Pale blue eyes empty as he addressed the town's alpha asking for safe entry. It wasn't uncommon for some to ask the resident wolves for entry into the small town of Beacon Hill's. What Talia Hale found odd was the pair in front of her where no wolves, and as far as she could smell they weren't supernatural at all. 

Talia took a breath smelling the pair in front of her. Several others of her pack doing the same. She fought the urge to wrinkle her nose. The child hidden behind his father was putting off so many emotions it was hard to pick up what the father was truly feeling.

The alpha's eyes moved down towards the child. He was small all long lanky arms, pale mole covered skin. But it was his eyes. Those wide amber eyes that held her attention. If the eyes were truly windows to the soul, that boy was surly suffering. If not for her werewolf scenes that made it so easy to pick up emotions, those eyes would tell her everything she needed to know without the need for his scent.

Anxiety, fear, grief, weariness, fatigue and she took another deep breath. Under his natural scent of cinnamon and freshly fallen snow she could smell... silver? That hint of silver intrigued her and by the looks of her younger brother slowly creeping up towards the pair it fascinated him as well.  


“Mr. Stilinski, you and your son are human are you not? There was no need for you to ask for entry."

Noah Stilinski's eyes slid away from her brother Peter back towards Talia.

“Your emissary said it would be best if we spoke to you anyways. My wife.” Noah's voice broke. The scent of grief grow. “She was a fox, as you know a fox does not present until there late teens and since Stiles is only ten we have no way of knowing if he will be a werefox like his mother.”

Talia took a step back shocked. A werefox? Her eyes traveled down towards the boy again, his small hands tangled in his fathers jeans as he leaned ever so slightly from behind the leg he hid behind.

“What type of werefox are we speaking of here?” Talia asked. Again she scented the air, she could smell no malice. No hint of darkness. The boy was or his mother for that matter was definitely no dark kitsune, there would be a defined smell to such a beast on anyone if they have not come of age or not.

“She was just a fox, though Claudia couldn't shift not into her full form. A flaw in her DNA the doctors said. Besides her claws and her eyes we never got to see her fox form. There are no dark kitsune's in her family. And in any history we could find of her family only five people in total where ever born as a were and yes all were you average red fox.” Noah took a deep breath.

“Look Alpha Hale, if my child possibly being fox is a problem we will find somewhere else. I will ask though if we could at least stay for the weekend. Stiles is still healing.”

Talia blinked taking in the boy once more as he wiggled behind his father. Healing he said? She took another breath, ah there it was under all those emotions she could smell the hint of injury and by how harsh the smell was once she picked it out from the others the injury most be bad.

“Where is your wife now?” Peter asked glancing over towards the cop. Talia growled. The biggest mistake she seemed to make in that moment as the child... Stiles eyes grow impossibly wide. The once small scent of fear growing and souring his pleasant scent of cinnamon and snow.

The boy fell backwards towards the ground a scream ripping from his throat as he crab walked quickly backwards till he slammed into a tree.

“Stiles!” Noah shouted taking off after his son as the Hale pack stood frozen by the deafening sounds of his screams.

The small boys breath was heaving, gasping as he clawed at his throat as if it would help him catch his breath. His father fell to his knees behind his son grabbing his small hands.

 “Stiles, come on kiddo you're okay.” A large loving hand cupped the boys small pale cheek. “Come on kid, deep breath.”

Stiles eyes rolled frantically searching for danger. Talia took a step forward worried as the boys heart kick up it pace. A harsh beat behind the cage of his ribs.

“I...I..” The boy heaved a strangled breath again. Frantically shacking his head. His feet now kicking wildly against the grass.

“Come on buddy. I need you to take a breath. Hold it for me.” Those amber eyes rolled. His anxiety seemed to triple as his breathing still ran away from him. Noah's own worry and anxiety was slowly climbing.

Then the boy just stopped. His eyes rolling towards the back of his skull as he fainted, his chin falling towards his chest.

“Damn it!” Noah snapped quickly pulling the boy towards his chest, cradling his son safely in his arms. Noah sighed, resting his cheek on top of his sons head. “My poor baby.”

The alpha's chest ached. If it wasn't for her wolf hearing she would have never picked up those last three words.

“Mr. Stilinski?” Again Noah sighed as he stood adjusting his son in his arms so his head rested in the curve of his neck.

“Stiles....” Pale eyes looked down towards his son. “Five weeks ago my wife was slaughtered in front of my son by a rival pack in LA. I was at work at the time, my wife even though she couldn't shift she could still do magic, not as well as werefox who can fully shift but none the less she still had her magic. She helped out with Alpha Ramsey with spells when he needed it. It wasn't often but sometimes on a rare occasion something evil would slip past and need taken care of.”

“Another pack caught wind of Claudia there aren't many werefoxes left as you know. Be it from hunters or that illness twenty years back that whipped out a good number of them. Ramsey's emissary wasn't a fan of his Alpha seeking help from another. That damn druid told another pack a fox was in the city, a pack that had been searching for a fox.” Talia frowned not liking where this story was going. 

“While my son and wife were at home, those bastards came. Her magic wasn't the strongest not by a long shot but to protect our son she fought with all she had.” Noah's voice hitched. “It wasn't enough though. Stiles my baby, he tried to help her. One of the betas ripped open his chest, but he was still awake. He was still awake, to watch his mothers throat being ripped out.”

Noah closed his eyes holding his son closer to his chest. “When I got home... she was already gone, and Stiles my sweet spastic boy was barely breathing. But my wife, the wild loving mother that she was killed four of those bastards before she went down.”

“Please.” Noah's voice broke. “Just the weekend. Then we will go. With his injuries and now these fucking panic attacks... he just needs some rest.”

“Noah.” The cop took a shuddering breath opening his eyes to meet the Alphas. “You and your son can stay, and I don't mean just for the weekend. You will have your safe haven in Beacon Hill's”

The cops tense shoulders sagged. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it. I don't care if that boy is a fox and I'm sorry my growl triggered such a harsh reaction out of your son.”

“It's still to fresh. Be it from the growl of a dog or a were, it sets him off so quickly.”

“I understand. Now you said he is still injured? Has he seen a doctor since you left LA?”

Noah flushed with guilt. “No, though Ramsey took care of the remaining pack we couldn't stay in that place. The whispers alone were tormenting. My wife's death spread like wild fire and Stiles, I couldn't bare for him to hear some of the things they were saying about my Claudia. So as soon as the doctors gave me the go ahead we left. The force I worked for found me a transfer for here, I was told they needed a new Sheriff.”

“He got a bad infection from his wounds and one point and I almost lost him all over again. Since we just arrived today I have yet to take him in to be seen.”

Talia smiled. “Come then, we can go see Alan he can check over your sweet boy there.”

The Alphas smile seemed so strained. She knew the boy needed so attending to but with how small and fragile he seemed she wanted nothing more then to rush him to her home where he would be safe. For something so evil to happen in front of that poor boy, she wished she could bring those monsters back and take them out herself.

  


\-------------------------------

**Four months later.**

Talia smiled as she cooked listening to her pack as they played. It was a relaxing Saturday for once the weather finally warm enough for the human pack mates to play outside. The older children in charge of the younger ones.

The adults kept an eye out of course. Though the wolf pups knew better then to use claws and teeth while playing, but sometimes tempers got the better of them. It wasn't often it happened but no parent could be to careful. We had all seen what kinds of scars could be left behind by an angry shifter.

Talia's smile slipped then, her mind going towards one particular wide eyed boy. Stiles, it had been a couple of weeks since she had seen him but she would never forget the scars the boy carried under his clothes.

Her smile grow then. She could never frown for long where that boy was concerned. Though he was sad often, and easily thrown into a panic he was the sweetest thing she had ever had the pleasure of meeting. So kind and caring. And that smile even after all the evil he had witnessed at such a young age he still glowed. Still laughed and played with the other children.

He could talk a mile a minute and sass his way through a conversation with Peter better then anyone she had ever meet. As if her thoughts of the Stilinski boy called to him, Peter wondered through the door, his hair messy feet bare.

“It's nice of you to finally join the land of the living little brother.” Talia said smiling over towards him.

Peter huffed. “You know damn well I was up all night researching those ruins for you Talia dear, don't treat me like one of the children who sleep till two in the afternoon.”

“Well someone's in a mood today.” Talia shot back turning back towards the lunch she was preparing.

“I'm in no mood. This is always my very pleasant attitude.” Talia laughed silently. If only her brother knew how very unpleasant he really was in everyone else's eyes. 

“Well, did you find anything worth while in your....” Talia's voice trailed off her head cocked to the side.

“Is that the Sheriffs car?” Peter asked listening to the low rumble of an engine pulling into the drive way.

“Yes it is.” Talia frowned moving towards the door. She had not been aware the Stilinski's would be stopping by today. Not that she minded of course, but Noah always made it a point to call before just dropping by. It worried her that he hadn't done so this time.

She pulled the door open just as Noah raised his hand to knock. In an instant she took in the pair in front of her. Stiles was curled up against his fathers chest. His cheek resting on his dads shoulder. His skin flushed his breathing slightly heavy.

He smelled of sickness, but that hint of silver she once detected in his scent had grown. This puzzled her.

“Talia, I'm sorry to come without calling. My cellphone broke and the station radioed in so I have to go in. Melissa is at work but Stiles is sick and I didn't want to leave him home alone. Ms. Jenkins would check in on him but with him being ill I wasn't comfortable leaving him alone in the house.”

Peter creeped up at some point, his mouth pulled low into a frown as he scanned the boy over.

“What's wrong with him?”

“The flu I believe. The school sent home letters about it going around, and I know your pack has human children as well and I'd hate to spread it to them, but there isn't anyone else I trust to watch after Stiles.”

“Of course Noah, it's fine. Here hand the sweetie over to me so you can get to work.” Talia reached out for Stiles but before she even had the chance to touch his arm, Peter stepped forwards sweeping the small boy into his own embrace and against his chest.

Stiles stirred opening hazy fevered eyes. “My Peter.” The boy mumbled. Relaxing against the older mans chest. Stiles the sweet boy, had such a odd love for Peter. Then again Talia didn't know if she could call it love. But Talia knew, her brother was very fawned of the boy.

“He seems quite warm, when's the last time you checked his fever?” Peter asked his hand on the boys forehead, ignoring the pointed stare of the Sheriff.

“Before we left. It's been at a steady 101.3 all morning. Nothing I've done or given him has gotten it to go down.” The Sheriffs voice sounded so tired.

Peter tilted his head to the side. “Well its not a terribly high fever. So will leave it for now. It's probably best to let it run it's cores.”

Talia stepped forward. “Has he been vomiting or anything else we need to be worried about?”

Noah shook his head. “No, just the fever. No vomit, no sneezing not even a cough. It's strange but then again, that boy has a good stomach on him. He rarely throws up when sick.” 

“Well, we'll keep an eye out just in case. Do you know about when you may be off work?”

Noah sighed. “Again no, I'm sorry. I'll try to finish up as quickly as possible.”

Talia raised a hand. “Noah, please don't worry. Stiles is always welcomed here. If he needs to stay the night that's fine. We have everything he may need here. You know that.”

Noah smiled slightly his eyes once again on his son. “I know, and he's so lucky to have y'all in his life... It's just.” Noah sighed.

 Ah, Talia knew where this was going. It was the same conversation she and the Sheriff have had on several occasions. Peter seemed to pick up on it as well, he nodded towards Noah before quickly turning on his feet and leaving the Fourier. Stiles tucked safely against his chest.

“Noah please, we've been over this. You and your son are no burden to me or my pack. We adore Stiles, and we care about you as well. I know you came here not expecting entry because of your son's possibility of being a Fox. He will be welcome in this pack Fox or not.”

Noah looked away for a moment. “But Foxes...”

Talia sighed. “Though Foxes don't run in packs they do form Family units and they are loyal to those they love. You are aware I have other pack mates who aren't wolves Sheriff. Him being a Fox in a pack will be no problem.”

“I know, I know... It's just worries I use to have with Claudia.” Talia watched understanding of course. She has heard the stories on how hard it had been for Noah and his wife before they finally made it to LA.

“Noah, Sheriff. Get to work. We will watch after Stiles. Have no worries, let your pack take some of your burden and worries.”

Noah smiles his pale eyes for a moment stress free. “Yes Alpha Hale.”

  


Peter frowned down at the warm boy against his chest, his hand going to the flushed cheek not pressed against his neck. Though he had never gotten a human sickness before being a born wolf it seemed like the child's fever had already climbed some since entering the living room.

He had experiences with his human family members but it had been a while since any of the Hale children had gotten sick that he was unsure of himself. His wolf was prowling the caverns of his mind growling and whining. _Protect, heal._ He cried. _Make him better._

Peter huffed. Ever since this boy had come into our lives his wolf has been on edge. Unsure of what this boy was to his wolf Peter ignored him to the best of his ability. 

Hot puffs of air warmed his neck as Stiles breathed. He could tell from the beat of his heart that the boy wasn't asleep, but the child seemed to exhausted to even lift his head. 

“Stiles?” Peter kept his voice soft, not sure if the fever came accompanied with a headache. 

“Hmmm?” The boy hummed not even bothering to lift his head or even open his eyes for that matter. 

“Do you want anything?” Surely he was hungry? It was about lunch time. 

“Juice?” Stiles muttered, though it sounded more like a question. Peter smiled. 

“What kind of juice sweetheart?”  _Sweetheart?_ Where the hell had that come from? Has he lost his damn mind? 

“Orange...” Stiles huffed rubbing his cheek against his shoulder. “My chest hurts.” 

Again Peter frowned. The flu didn't come with chest pain. Listening closely Peter tried to hear any sounds that weren't normal for a human. A blip in his heart, chest congestion anything that would make him feel pain. He heard nothing..

The click of shoes against the ground and the sweet smell of lilac and sage alerted Peter of his older sister entering the room. 

“Talia?” Peter called before his sister could keep from passing them towards the kitchen. 

Talia raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Yes Peter?” 

 How he hated that look. “Could you bring Stiles some orange juice?” Peter didn't know why he was asking his sister to fetch the drink. He could easily get it himself, but he didn't want to put Stiles down to get it. Not that he could really if he wanted to, the boys small hands were tangled in his blue shirt quite tightly. 

Talia gave Peter a look, one he knew was her silently questioning him, but for once instead of saying anything she nodded before turning on her heels. 

“Stiles?” He waited till the boy blinked up at him. “Did you tell your dad your chest was hurting?” 

Stiles shook his head. “It's new.” Was all the boy said once again closing his eyes. His small frame shuttered. “Hurts.” He moaned. 

Peter's anxiety was climbing. Was the boy ill more then we realized? Again he listened to his heart. Over the months he had known the boy he had gotten quite use to the fast pace the boys heart kept. The flutters when he got excited, the kick and pounding when he got afraid. None of that was present in this moment. Just a slow steady pace. Was the slowness something to be concerned about? 

“Stiles sweetie, here's your juice.” Talia's voice pulled him from his worries. Blue eyes glanced up into dark hazel ones. 

Not waiting for the boy to move Peter grabbed the glass before leaning back against the couch, holding the cup to the boys lips. Small lips opened slightly to drink tiny sips before he pulled away once more. 

 "He's complaining of chest pain.” Peter said addressing his sister as he sat the glass on the coffee table in front of him. 

Those expressive eyebrows of his sisters pulled down into a frown. “What kind of chest pains baby?” Leaning forward his sister placed a loving hand on Stiles back her head tilted to the side, no doubt listening to the same thing he had been doing just moments before. 

“I-It's tight.” Stiles stammered. “And burns.” 

Again that anxiety spiked. Tightness was a sign of a heart attack in humans was it not? But surely a human of Stiles age couldn't suffer from such a thing. 

Talia looked questioningly at Peter, silently asking questions Peter had already addressed to Stiles. 

“He said the chest pain is new. The Sheriff doesn't know.” 

 “How bad is the pain Stiles?” Talia asked glancing back towards the boy. 

 “Not bad... Want to sleep.” He whispered turning to hide his face in the curve of Peters neck. 

“Okay sweetie, then sleep. But you must tell Peter if the pain gets worse. Do you understand?” Peter glared at his sister, not liking the command in her voice. Then he caught himself. He had no reason to be upset about her speaking to Stiles that way, she was only trying to look out for his well being. 

“Yes ma'am.” Stiles huffed out not bothering to look up towards his sister. Poor boy was miserable. 

“Thank you sweetie. Get some sleep, and Peter call me if anything changes.” Peter rolled his eyes, he was no fool. 

As his sister walked off Peter got comfortable on the couch leaning back before pulling the boy closer to his chest. Securing his around the boys back he closed his eyes, he couldn't find it in himself to release the child just yet. So since he had gotten little sleep the night before he might as well get a nap in too. 

  


\-------------------------------- 

A rush of children running in through the back door had Talia quickly moving as to quite them. Giggles and loud laughs filled the kitchen as the rowdy bunch flowed in. Laura was at the front of the pack her smile large her eyes crinkled in the adorable way that they did when she smiled. 

“Children.” Talia said halting them all in their tracks. 

“Yes mama?” Derek asked leaning around his twin sister to look up at his mother. For a twelve year old the boy could sure look quite serious when needed. 

“The Sheriff dropped off Stiles a bit ago...”

A loud shout of laughter cut the Alpha off. “Yay, Stiles is here!” 

“Cora!” Talia snapped quietly her hearing stretching out to make sure the loudness of her daughters voice didn't wake the sleeping boy.

“Stiles is sick, so after you eat your lunch I would like for you to either go outside to play some more, or go up stairs and watch movies. Am I clear?” 

“Yes Alpha!” A loud chorus of voices filled the large kitchen. Talia smiled. 

“Now wash up then sit at the table.” Dozens of little feet rushed to the sink to follow the orders Isaac the first to reach it. The blonde quickly scrubbed his hands before making his way towards the table. Derek was right on his heels, followed by his twin sister the Erica and so on. 

The kids to Talia's delight kept their voices quite as they sat at the table patiently waiting for the food to be served. Talia could feel a pair of intense eyes on her back, huffing a silent laugh she turned to look at her son. 

“Ask Derek, I can practically hear your mind shouting from here.” 

Derek's eyebrows frowned before his mouth followed suit. “What's wrong with Stiles?” 

“We don't know baby, possibility the flu, it was going around the school.” 

“Ewww, so he's throwing up and stuff. Gross.” Cora said pulling a face. 

“Cora.” Talia sighed. Her daughter had no filter to that mouth of hers. Talia could practically feel the issues for her teenage years already weighting down on here. 

“Stiles isn't throwing up, and if he was he wouldn't be able to control it.” 

“It's still gross.” Cora gripped under her breathe. 

  


Peter woke with a start his wolf howling in his mind, jolting him awake from his peaceful sleep. He quickly took in his surroundings. He could hear his family outside and by the number of voices out there most of the pack was present. The house was silent... except for.

Peter quickly glanced down at the boy against his chest. His once pale skin was flushed bright red a sheen of sweat coated his skin, but it was his breathing... Small gasp of breath quickly followed a sharp exhale as if a heavy weight was sitting on the boys chest. 

Worried Peter quickly sat up holding onto the boy so he didn't slip out of the protective spot on the older mans chest. Peter quickly rearranged the boy so he was laying against the curve of his arm, in moments Peters free hand was on the boys forehead.

The man cursed quietly. 

“Talia!” Peter shouted, not trying to be quieted in the slightest. The boys fever was to high, and with all the man handling Peter was doing Stiles hadn't even twitched. 

“Stiles sweetheart can you wake up for me?” Again nothing from the boy, Peter cursed again. The sound of running feet had Peter glancing up as his sister rushed in her dark hair wind blown, her cheeks flushed. 

“What's wrong?” She asked getting down to business something Peter was normally annoyed with he now found charming. 

“His fever is to high, his breathing his harsh and...” Peter listened closely. “His damn heart is barely slugging along.”

 Peter stood quickly holding the boy bridal style. “Call Deaton and get him here at once and the Sheriff. This is no damn flu. I'm going to put him in a cool bath to lower his temperature until they get here.” 

For once his sister didn't question him she nodded once rushing towards her cell phone while Peter shot upstairs to his room. The bathtub in his room was large, large enough if he had to he would get in with Stiles. As he rushed up stairs Peter pulled off the boys shoes then his socks and on to his pants. Once he adjusted Stiles just right in his arm he ripped of his shirt leaving him in nothing but his boxers. 

He left a trail of clothes behind him as he rushed towards the second flight of stairs that carried him to the top floor. This level was Peters only and right this second he was never more grateful for that. Quickly making his way into the bathroom he ran a cool bath waiting for it to feel slightly before he lowered the boy into the water. 

At once the boy came alive, gasping awake and crying out. His small hand flying forward to grip Peters arms. 

“Stop!” Stiles gasped his honey eyes glazed with fever frantically searching the room around him. 

“Shhh sweetheart, you're okay.” The water had to feel dreadful on the boys fevered skin. 

“Hurts.” The boy wheezed his free hand going to his chest clawing at it with blunt human nails. 

Peters eyes followed the movements his eyes catching he sight of the harsh scars across his pale mole speckled chest. 

“How does it hurt baby?” Peter asked, now hearing the sound of his sister running up the stairs a second pair of feet following after her. 

“Hurt's so bad.” Stiles cried not answering Peters question. Tears where sliding down those rosy fevered cheeks. Stiles gasped his eyes rolling towards the back of his head. 

“No, sweetheart stay awake.” Peter shook him lightly the water splashing against the tub. 

“Going to explode.” Stiles whispered, kicking his feet wildly now. “Hurts!” The boy screamed clawing more at his chest. Peter grabbed that small hand when he saw blood well up to the surface of his skin. 

“Peter, Deaton will be here in a few moments, the Sheriff isn't far behind him. How is Stiles?” Peter didn't have to look up to know the fourth person in the room was James, Talia's husband quickly moved around his wife kneeling on the floor beside Peter to look the boy over. 

“He's burning up, says his chest hurts.” What more could Peter say? Stiles wasn't in the frame of mind to tell him what was wrong, and it was doubtful the child even knew. 

Then suddenly the slow sluggish pace of his heart kick started, going faster and faster till Peter was afraid the boys heart would actually explode within the confounds of his chest. 

Stiles gasped and wheezed his caged arm jerking and shaking his feet kicking, his back bowed as he screamed. Peter flinched at the sound not understanding what was happening. He tried to hold the boy still as he shook through the pain and without even a second thought Peter began to pull. Draining his pain. 

The older man gasped, cursed. “Holy shit.” Peter growled, this pain. No wonder the boy was screaming. 

“What? What is it?” Talia asked frantically, apparently all her Alpha training flying out the window with worry for the small boy.

No matter how much pain Peter seemed to pull it just came back tenfold flooding the boys system. 

“Peter stop before you pass out!” James snapped slapping his brother in laws arm. Peter blinked back the black spots in his eyes pulling back, he had no other choose. James was right, he would drop like a brick in the ocean if it kept it up. 

“Hurt's Peter.” Stiles cried trying to crawl his way out of the bath. He was gasping loudly now his chest rising alarmingly fast and to Peters horror the boys temperature seemed to rise more. 

Just when Peter was about to snap about Deaton not being here he heard the shout and the sound of running feet. 

“Stiles!” Noah's voice was thick with worry as he barreled around the corner his blue eyes going wide with fear as he laid eyes of his struggling son. 

“What's wrong? What's happening?!” Noah shouted pushing past James to take his spot beside Peter. Stiles mouth was open wide now, his breath heaving. Peter listened in on his heart his eyes going wide at the speed it beat. 

“Deaton!” Peter snapped yelling at the darker skinned man as he made his way into the room. Thank god Peters bathroom was so large or they would never all fit in here. 

“This is no flu.” Deaton said voice strained. 

“No shit!” Peter shouted, his arms where suddenly burning. Shocked he glanced down towards the boy. “What the hell?” 

 “Oh god, what is that!?” Noah yelled jumping forward towards his son. 

“Do not Sheriff!” The man froze. “He will surely burn you alive if you touch him.” 

Eyes wide Noah watch terrified as electric blue swirled up Stiles body from his toes to his legs then crawling quickly up his shins to his thighs.

“Everyone out now!” Deaton shouted grabbing hold of Talia and James pushing them out of the bathroom. Seeing Noah not moving the doctor grabbed the back of his shirt hurling him up pulling him towards the exit. 

“Let me go damn it!” Noah struggled in the doctors hold trying to shot back towards his son. 

“Alpha Hale.” Deaton stammered out. Peters sister quickly rushed back in grabbing the cop dragging him out of the room and down the stairs. 

“Peter leave him and come now!” Peter shook his head. No way in hell was he leaving this boy. What the hell was crawling up his body? It was now hidden by his boxers but in seconds it flew up climbing past his navel towards his chest. 

Stiles screamed. Struggling more. “Peter!” He shouted eyes wide with fear. 

“You will die Peter, leave the boy and lets go now!” No one left him a chose in seconds arms were grabbing him hauling him up and dragging him away from his stiles. _His mate._ His wolf supplied. Peters eyes grow wide. 

“Let me the fuck go!” He howled struggling forward just to be lifted of his feet. 

  


Peter didn't know what was happening one moment he was in the bathroom with Stiles and the next thing he knew he was being tossed on the ground outside the Hale house a good fifty feet away. Noah was being held back by Boyd's parents screaming and cursing trying to get lose and towards the house. James was yelling at the kids to move farther back. 

Peter could here Stiles screams, the man was on his feet and running back towards the house. Then he was being tackled from behind coming down hard against the grass. 

“Get the fuck off!” He screamed. 

His Alpha roared and he stilled panting ears ringing with Stiles screams. 

“My son!” The Sheriff screamed. “What about Stiles!?” 

The mans voice had Peter in motion again running once more then he was air born being knocked backwards as the house exploded in flames. 

Peter screamed. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blazing fire, the on set of a hard road ahead of the Hale pack... Tempers will fly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, first I would like to point out there is no warning for age, because there will be nothing underage going on in this fic. When anything steamy possibly happens everyone will be 18 or older. 
> 
> Second I do not have a beta, so its up to my eyes alone to catch any mistakes and unfortunately I will miss a few. so I'm sorry about that. 
> 
> there will be a time just in this chapter and a flash back... plus you know all the crap I made up for my fic...  
> Enjoy!  
> \--=-=-=-=-=-=-

The flames where brighter then anything he had ever seen before, and the heat. God that heat... nothing could survive such scalding flames. Peters heart was pounding in his chest beating a frantic rhythm he couldn't seem to calm. 

The Sheriffs screams where almost quite over the sound of the burning third story of the house. Peter could make out kids crying from somewhere behind him. Someone shouting Stiles name over and over. 

Then Deaton was there beside Peter muttering something under his breath, something Peter couldn't care to make out. How could he be so fucking calm?! There was a child burning alive in that house and he wasn't even flinching. 

As fast as the flames came they died into nothing, suddenly Deaton was running towards the house shouting for Peter to follow. 

Peters wolf took over then making the man spring to his feet flying past the doctor and up the stairs. He could feel the heat from the second story but he kept going running faster then he had ever in his twenty years of existence.

Peters room was in ruins everything chard and black but it looked like the fire had been put out ages ago not mere seconds. 

The wolfs heart nearly stopped. There in the tub lay his young mate, untouched by the flames. Pale skin still flushed with fever, heart once again back at that sluggish pace. Peter was moving before he was even aware he was doing so, lifting the boy into his arms. 

Warm breath puffed against his cheek as he scent marked the boy. How was this possible? What the hell had even happened. He knew foxes could weld magic but nothing of this magnitude, was it even magic that cause such an outburst of power? 

“How's his heart rate Peter?” Deaton demanded dropping down beside the pair. 

“Sluggish, slower then needed for a human to live for long.” Peter whispered. Though he could see the fire hadn't burned the boy to a crisp he was still frantically checking him over for wounds. The scratches from his nails were still there, slightly inflamed but the blue veins that were once covering the boys body were gone. 

Then he saw it, right in the center of the boys chest so close to his heart. A black ruin. 

“I knew it.” Deaton said his voice taking on that tone that lead to him being invasive and cryptic.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Peter snapped pulling the boy from the bath and pressing him to his chest. 

“Come bring him outside I'll explain it to everyone so I won't have to repeat myself.” 

Peter moved slowly through the ruined room. Not trusting the flooring now that he had precious cargo, the last thing Peter wanted was to fall through floors with Stiles in his arms. Once clear of the third floor the wolf picked up his pace. The boy was clearly alive, but his skin was still feverish and his breathing to erratic and don't even get him started on that slow pace of his heart.

When the sun hit his eye's shouting sounded in the back yard dozens of voices trying to talk over one another, but it was one voice that rang out over the rest. 

“Oh god! Stiles, kiddo!” Noah was there then running his hands over his sons face then his neck towards his shoulders. Then they stopped right over the ruin. 

“What the hell is that?” 

The yard grow quite even the insects and animals of the woods seemed to hush, waiting. 

“That sheriff, is the mark of a spark coming into his power.” Deaton was so matter of fact almost to the point the man sounded bored that Peter had to fight a growl. 

Many, if not all of the pack looked questioningly towards the doctor, eye brows risen mouths pointed down in frowns. Peters heart was once again pounding in his chest, a spark. A spark child who could possibly end up as a fox. Jesus. 

“What the hell is a spark?” Noah snapped his eyes never left his son but his voice was seething. 

“A spark is a very powerful magic user. They don't need spells or potions there magic flows with their will. If they can imagine it, it can happen. Now there are of course different levels of sparks from low all the way... and excuse this pop culture reference if Stiles was awake I'm sure he'd enjoy it.. something as powerful as Merlin.” 

“Stiles is about to be eleven soon is he not?” Deaton asked continuing on like he hadn't just made a comment that had people staring at him like he was crazy. 

“In about a month, why do you ask?” 

“Ah, I understand now. A spark normally shows his or her gifts before the age of twelve, but our dear Stiles here with how volatile his spark erupted he is no low level spark. No this boy is going to have powers that will rival anything that stands in his way.” 

“So he's dangerous!” Someone piped up pulling a fierce growl from Peter. 

“No of course not, don't be dense, him being a spark does not make him dangerous. He'll need to be taught control as he comes into his powers more but not at all dangerous unless you pose a threat to him or someone he loves.” 

“But he could also be a fox they have magic as well, surely the boy will turn into a dark kitsune! No one should have that much power!” That same voice shouted, Peters eyes homed in on the man standing to the back. Lucas of course. That coward. He hadn't been in the pack for more then two years but Peter was about to make him bloody if he kept talking about his mate in such a manner. 

Peter froze, he would have to get use to that term when it came to Stiles. 

“Enough Lucas!” Talia snapped. 

“I'm sorry but No, don't you see it, we can't have something like that within this pack! He'll kill us all!” 

The growl that left Peters lips had several pack mates stepping back. “Enough! If you want to keep your entrails in your body I suggest you keep your mouth shut.” 

“Who are you to order me you pedophile, always hanging close to the boy and touching him. Your as deadly as him!” Growls were filling the air now joining Peter's and Talia's. 

“Sheriff, take your son please.” In seconds the boy was out of Peters arms and safely with his father. The wolf was moving as the pack parted like the red sea, his claws extended, he grabbed onto Lucas's neck squeezing. His claws digging into the tender flesh there. 

“I'd watch what you say from here on out bastard.” Peter's eyes shined blue. “You wouldn't be the first I've killed.” 

“You are a complete fool if you believe anything you are saying” Deaton cut in drawing the eyes of those around him. “His spark makes it certain he would not be a dark kitsune, those with a spark are the most loyal and kind you will ever meet. The spark of that boys soul has seen darkness but that ruin on his chest proves he will be nothing but good.” 

Peter was still squeezing itching to snap the poor bastards neck. 

“A spark, Lucas if you must know, is only granted to those who have suffered greatly and was not tainted by that darkness. That's why there are so few of them. He suffered and almost died for his mother just to have to watch her bleed out. That's why its now presenting if he was over the age of twelve when that tragedy stuck he would have never been granted such a gift. Only the purest of hearts can handle a spark.” 

“Peter...” Peter snarled ignoring his sister. He could still smell the mans fear of his mate. Could practically taste his hate. “Little brother release him, I will deal with it accordingly.” 

“No.” His wolf growled out taking control. “Insulted my mate, He'll die because of it.” 

Talia gasped as did a few others, not that Peter was keeping track. The neck in his grasp was to tempting to claw out. He wanted to feel his blood run down his arms. 

“Peter?” 

“He's a threat.” Peter found himself snarling. 

“My Peter.” A soft voice whimpered. All thoughts of blood lust left the wolf in an instant. In seconds Peter was back besides Noah and his son.

“Stiles?” Pained amber eyes blinked up at blue ones. 

“Still hurts Peter.” The boy whined his eyes feeling with tears. 

“Deaton!” The doctor was there then looking the boy over. 

“Stiles, can you tell me what your feeling? The best you can, describe it for me. Maybe I can help.” 

“Urm.” The boy flinched crying out. “It hurts.” A single tear escaped those wide eyes. 

“Does it still feel tight? Like your going to explode?” Peter asked voice soft, repeating the complaints from earlier back towards Stiles. 

Stiles shook his head lightly. “Different.”

That pulled a frown to the wolfs lips. “Different how sweetheart?” 

Stiles eyes rolled and he flinched crying out once more. “Electricity.” He mumbled. “Like before dad.” 

Noah frowned. “Before? So this has happened before! I told you he was dangerous. He's going to burn us all alive!” 

“No!” Noah shouted. “This has never fucking happened before... I have no idea what he means by electri....” Noah's eyes widen. 

“When Stiles was six we where having repairs done to our house. One of the contractors left some damn wires lose, this kid being the naturally curious creature that he is touched them. He was electrocuted, nearly stopped his damn heart.” Noah glanced down at his son. “Is that what you mean Kiddo? Is that what it feels like now?”

“Don't lie!” Lucas yelled. 

Peter has had enough, he shot forward intending on killing the fucker when Talia's hand shot out towards the man gripping him by the neck and tossing him across the yard. Her roaring echoing in the woods. 

“You have spoken enough out of term Lucas. You continue to spew nonsense and belittle a child and that is not something I will have in my pack.” Talia's eyes bled red. “You have forty eight hours to remove yourself from Beacon Hills, if you are here one second longer...” Talia's glanced back towards her brother. “I will let Peter gut you and dance in your entrails.” 

Lucas shuddered jumping to his feet and running off. Peter itched to follow, to slaughter but Deaton was shouting for him. 

“Peter, Noah isn't having any luck keeping Stiles attention long enough to get him to focus. I need him to do something, but for it to work he needs to have a clear mind.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, he had only know the boy for a few months. How was he supposed to make him focus when his father could not? 

“You look doubtful, do not worry. It will work, you have a connection with him his father does not. As his mate you can hold his attention when in pain longer then anyone else.” 

“Will it hurt him?” If it will harm him Peter would do no such thing. Whatever it was Deaton was asking him to do. 

“It will hurt him less then his powers continuing to surge like this.” 

Peter's eyes fell to the boy, he didn't want him to be in pain, but this mate thing was so new. And leave it to him to find his mate that was ten years younger then him. Surely the universe was laughing at him.

“Do it Peter!” Noah snapped. “Look, I don't know what you're worrying about right now but he's hurting. Don't let him hurt anymore.” Those pale eyes took on a deadly glare. “If you don't do this I will shot you in the ass with a wolfsbane bullet, don't fuck with me right now.” 

“What do you need me to do?” 

Deaton sighed. “Okay here.” The doctor handed Peter a crumbled receipt with a ruin drawn on it. “This is a ruin for temporary magic sealing, I want you to tell Stiles to picture that on his skin. As soon as it appears it will seal off his magic for a year unless removed by another spark. It will give me time to teach him control.” 

“So.. What you just want him to will his magic into stopping itself?” Noah asked looking at the paper with doubt. 

“Yes, unless you want your son to spontaneously explode do to a power overload I'd highly recommend we do it in the next few moments.” Noah's eyes grow wide with horror, he held his son a little tighter making the boy whimper. 

Peter huffed. “Stiles, sweetheart can you look at me?” Stiles whined struggling to open his eyes. “Come on baby I need you to do something for me.” 

Pained honey eyes cracked open. “Hurts Peter.” 

“I know sweetheart, but we're going to make it stop okay? You just have to do one small thing for me.” 

“What?” Stiles wheezed his breath hissing through his clenched teeth. 

Peter held the paper up towards the boys level. “See this here? I need you to imagine this on you body like a tattoo.” The boy shuttered looking doubtful as Peter felt. “Don't think of anything else, just look at this, picture it on you.” 

Stiles blinked focusing on the paper then his lips pressed into a tight line a small vein popping in his forehead with how hard he was trying to ignore the pain. His amber eyes flared white before he sagged against his father, sighing in relief.

“Stiles!” Noah shouted worried when his son went limp in his arms. 

“Better.” The boy whispered smiling slightly. 

A collective sigh filled the air as the tense worried pack was eased by the boys words. Peter's wolf howled with joy. 

The boy wiggled in his dad's arms asking to be put down silently. The man seemed reluctant but he relented standing the boy on his feet. Now that Peter could look at him fully he saw the knew ruin on the boys flesh. At the top of his back right were the top of a tee-shirt would stop was a black ruin, the black lines seemed to twist down the length of his spine. It was much bigger then Peter had anticipated. 

“Oh my.” Deaton muttered looking over the ruin. 

“What? What's wrong?” Noah asked voicing Peters question before he could get the chance. 

“Oh, nothing. He did quite well, I just wasn't expecting it to be so large. It must have grown to take control of the untapped power your son houses.” Deaton sounded awed. 

“Power?” Stiles asked tilting his head to the side. Peter fought a smile. The boy reminded him of a curious puppy. Now that the ruin had taken effect his heart was back to its fast pace, his skin no longer flushed. 

“Yes Stiles power, how do you feel about magic?” Deaton asked kneeling down to the boys eye level. 

Again he tilted his head. “What kind of magic? Like a fox? Like m-m..” The boys lips pressed tightly closed, unable to speak about his mother. 

“No, different. Magic that can do impossible things as long as you believe it can.” Deaton quickly pressed on, not wanting the boy to remember unhappy times. 

Stiles eyes grow wide with wonder. “You mean like Merlin!?” 

The yard irrupted into a fit of laughter. Peter smiled brightly. 

“What? Why are you laughing at me!?” Stiles snapped crossing his arms over his chest. Pouting. 

“Yes Stiles just like Merlin. You have power just like that, that's why you were feeling so unwell. You gifts finally unsealed.”

Stiles frowned. “I don't have magic.” 

Noah sighed at his stubborn son. “Stiles, kiddo he's right. Look” The sheriff pointed towards the burned Hale house. “You did that earlier.” 

Amber eyes grow wide. “I'm so sorry Mrs. Talia, I didn't mean to wreck your house! I fix it, make it just like new! I promise!” 

The hair on the back of Peters neck stood on end, the strong scent of silver heavy in the air. As those two things happened Stiles eyes flared white, a blue shock wave of some sort shot from his flailing arms. The boy gasped falling to his ass looking dazed. 

“Stiles!” Peter snapped rushing to the boy and scooping him up and placing him back on his feet. 

“Oh.” He touched his chest. “That felt funny.” 

“Oh my god!” Derek shouted sounding awed. “Mama look the house is fixed!” 

Peter's head shot up looking towards the house and indeed. It looked.... just like new, the once shattered windows now gleaming. The chard walls around the windowsills now pristine and white. He had no doubt the inside would look just like it once was. 

That just begs the question. “I thought you said that ruin would seal his magic.” Peter growled at the doctor. 

The doctor that was currently on his knees behind the boy, eyes on... damn it. Slightly faded ruin. “It seems I have less then a year to train him. His magic is stronger then I thought.” The man had the balls to sound thoughtful... 

God help them. It was going to be a long year.  
-=-=-=-=-=-=- 

 

Four years later

 

Stiles tugged along behind Derek, Laura and Cora. His eyes heavy, his arms feeling limp as noodles. He was so tired. Four years of magic training and counting. The new ruin for control Deaton had made him put on his back itched uncomfortably and aggravated his magic. He knew it was needed, at least for now. Though Doctor Deaton said he was doing really well he was starting to feel doubtful again. 

One year had turned into two, two had turned to three and so on. He didn't know if he could last a Fifth. The things Deaton had him do after school was brutal. If the man wasn't hurling spells at him to stop midair he was tossing foxglove at him. 

Since apparently he was already showing signs of being a fox on top of the whole spark thing. The damn plant that Deaton had made into a fine powered made his throat burn and made it hard for him to breathe. Which well duh, Stiles didn't much enjoy the sensation of suffocating.

The first time he had come into contact with the plant Stiles had been playing in the woods with Scott playing tag as Scotty boy bounced around him in his wolf form. His fur would always be one of Stiles favorite things. It was a pretty shade of chocolate and so soft. That damn fur was so pretty Stiles had been distracted. Of course. 

Unfortunately for Stiles though as he blindly ran, laughing as Scott howled happily behind him he had ran into a small brush of flowers. Which hello luck Stiles didn't apparently possess, had been foxglove. And true to his lack of luck, one inhale of breath and Stiles had collapsed wheezing as he fought to breathe. He dimly remembered Scott's frightened howls for helps and the answering wolves of the adults within range. 

Then his wolf. His Peter, was suddenly there blue eyes calm, hiding any fear that could send Stiles into a panic attack. Swooping him into to his arms and getting him to Deaton in record time. 

Deaton, the bastard had started using foxglove from that day on out. Training Stiles to unconsciously warding himself against anything containing the plant flying his way. He couldn't shift of course. He wasn't mature enough for that, and Stiles was slightly glad. He didn't needed the added magic to learn to control on top of the treasure trove his body was apparently already housing. 

“Stiles?” 

Stiles blinked his eyes back into focus. “Yes?” Had Derek asked him something? 

Derek's eyebrows frowned. “I asked if you were excited about your birthday party. You only turn fifteen once you should be excited.” 

Stiles chuckled. “There is nothing exciting about turning fifteen. I'd be more excited if it was eighteen.” 

Laura laughed loudly. “You only want to be eighteen so you can do unspeakable things to Uncle Peter.” 

Stiles flushed bright pink. Cora gagged. “Gross Laura! Don't say nasty shit like that. No offense Stiles, I know he's your mate but dude he's our uncle. I don't want to think of crap like that.” 

“There is nothing wrong with Stiles wanting to have sex with his mate.” Laura shot back grinning widely when Cora gagged again. 

“Anyways! There is nothing exciting about fifteen. Plus honestly, I'm just so tired. I swear I could sleep for a year. If my magic wouldn't kill us all in the process that is.” Stiles mumbled kicking at a rock that was in his path. 

“Awe, come on Stiles you're doing great. Deaton says so, and he doesn't compliment anyone!” Cora said slowing so she could swing her arm around Stiles shoulder. “Though.” The girl leaned closer to Stiles and inhaled. “You do smell exhausted. Are you okay? Should we call someone to pick us up instead of walking home?” 

Stiles smiled slightly. “We're walking home because all the adults are at the pack meeting about the peace treaty with the neighboring pack. You know we have been having problems with some of their pack going feral and trying to cross the border to shed blood and rain down mayhem.” 

Derek clicked his tongue sounding disgusted. “They are going feral because they have a young Alpha with no proper training who can't seem to control his pack properly. Once mom gets through with him there shouldn't be any problems.” 

“So true, she's going to scare the ever loving death out of him. I wish we where there to see it.” Laura whined, side stepping a tree her voice filled with longing. 

“You and Derek only have to wait one more year before you're both eighteen and able to tag along for Pack business. While me and Stiles have to wait three years! So stop complaining!”

Stiles tuned out then, not wanting to listen to the two siblings bickering about something as silly as wanting to join a bunch of adults sitting around talking shop. He had enough things to worry about then being part of that. Like for instance the fact that it's been four fucking years and he didn't have a handle of his damned magic. 

Deaton had told him it would be slow going when he realized Stiles tap of power seemed to be endless but this was bloody freaking ridiculous. He took a breath trying to calm his sudden anxiety. It was nothing to worry about right? He'd get it soon, then he could stop being so wound up, unable to drop his guard because of fear of hurting those around him. 

He never wanted to do anything like that again. 

He was still haunted by the screams, by the calls of help. All because he had lost control, he had hurt his pack... He couldn't do that again. 

“Stiles? Stiles!” Stiles jumped flailing backwards as Derek popped up in his line of vision. 

“Calm down would you, I don't know what you're worrying about but everything will be okay.” 

God Stiles hoped so. 

======== =

“I'm so damn happy that's over.” Peter snapped throwing his jacked onto the back of the couch as he stomped into the living room. 

“Calm down Peter.” Talia said walking up behind her brother putting a comforting hand on his back. 

“Calm down!” Peter yelled slapping his sisters hand away, Noah stood off to the side watching with a raised eyebrow. As did James the bastard and a few others. “If one more fucking mutt calls me a fucking cradle robber I'm going to start slitting throats. I have never. Never! Touched Stiles in such a manner. And the fact that people have the gall to suggest it makes me was to snap bones.” 

Talia sighed, she knew he was brooding about those words and she has been waiting for an outburst for a few years now. She's surprised he waited so long. 

“I know I can be vicious and cruel and I'll slaughter anyone who touches my pack. But I'm not some monster that would touch a child that way. I would never harm my mate that way.” 

“You're no monster Peter, we know that.” Talia said softly not wanting to set her brother off. Noah stepped forward placing a hand on Peters shoulder to calm the younger wolf. 

“Peter, one I'm surprised you let others get to you this way, and two. To hell with them, we know you love Stiles... Hell I couldn't choose a better mate for my son if I tried. So lets just calm down and let it go, it's Stiles birthday today. This is supposed to be a celebration.” 

Melissa stepped forward clapping her hands happily trying to calm the tension in the air. “On that note, lets get to cooking. I know the other kids are home from school already. And Derek and his sister's went to pick Stiles up from Deaton's that gives us plenty of time to cook and get his cake iced.” 

The anger drained out of Peter instantly which always seemed to happen when someone mentioned his mate. The wolf nodded his head reluctantly as much as it pissed him off that people thought he would do such a thing he couldn't let it get to him. Stiles would pick up on his mood quickly and then the boy would blame himself and that just wouldn't do.

“Right cake... Peter why don't you help Melissa ice it, you know best how Stiles takes his sweets.” 

Peter raised his eyebrow walking off, he may know how Stiles liked his cake but Noah still knew his son better. Those damn pack mates of his was only trying to distract him from his pissy mood. Not that it wasn't helping, it was April 8th after all the day Noah and Claudia brought his mate into the world.

So he could do nothing more then to shake off his bad mood and get to work on making sure his mate had a great day. 

 

As soon as Peter had the icing on the cake just like Stiles preferred the front door open and Laura's loud laugh filled the house. Peter's hearing homed in on Stiles heart beat and scent in seconds, he was moving slower then normal. His cinnamon scent tangy with silver and...... Peter growled foxglove. 

No matter how many times he threatened, that damn Doctor continued to use the damn plant on Stiles after he had told him not too. It just to damn risky, how could he not remember the condition Peter had brought Stiles to him that day. 

-=-=-=-=-

 

Past.... 

Peter was soaking up the sun on one of his rare days off of work. Enjoying the heat on his skin and the laughs of his mate in the woods. It may annoy his little mate to have Peter always listening in on him but Peter couldn't help it. 

Ever since he had come to terms with the fact the fates had granted him a mate he was vigilant on making sure he was safe. Even though his magic was still unstable at the best of times, even with the ruin and the training Stiles was putting in he still had random outburst of power. Not that Peter would ever fault his Stiles for it. With that much untapped raw power even the most skilled adult would have trouble. 

But Peter couldn't be to careful, the boys magic always ran his heart into over drive when it kick started. Taking it to speeds that just wasn't safe for the boy, so Peter despite ever admitting it allowed worried greatly. He knew his little spark felt guilty for always worrying others that guilt always made his sweet scent smell bitter a taste Peter was not in favor of having on his palate.

So when he was around and even when he wasn't he made sure someone he trusted immensely was keeping an eye out for him. 

So as he lounged in the sun, a book in his had he didn't miss when his little sparks heart kick started. And the howl of Scott definitely didn't go unnoticed by any adult in a fifty mile radius. Peter was on his feet throwing his book and flying through the trees his feet carrying him forward. 

Protect. His wolf howled. Save. He growled. 

Peter would do just that. 

It didn't take him long to reach the boys, being only half a mile from the house Peter got there in record time. Quickly trying to assess what was happening. 

Scott was pacing back and forth whining and nudging the human boy as he laid on the ground clawing at his neck. His lips blue, his eyes wide and red rimmed. Peter smelled the foxglove before he even swept his Mate into his arms and running back towards the house. He made a B line for his car, yelling at Talia who stood on the back porch to call Deaton to let him know he was on his way. 

It wasn't until Peter reached Deaton did he finally come to terms on what was happening. His spark, his Stiles was undoubtedly going to be a fox. The boys amber eyes kept flash a bright almost golden orange color as he wheezed, the plant he had accidentally inhaled slowly working its way through his system. Killing him.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Peter blinked pulling himself from the memory as small arms wrapped around him from behind and warm cheek resting against his back. 

Peter smiled. “Happy Birthday sweetheart.” 

Stiles hummed happily. “Thank you Peter.” 

“How was training?” Peter asked turning slowly allowing the boy to hug against his chest. 

A loud sigh left the boys lips. “Hard and I really don't like the foxglove. It makes me itchy just thinking about it.” Big eyes blinked up at him, eyes telling Peter a thousand secrets. “Why can't I control it yet? I've been trying so hard but we still had to put a new control ruin on my back.” 

Peter cupped the boys cheek sweeping away at the single tear that escaped the boys pretty eyes. 

“It will take time sweetheart. You have a lot of power, you can't rush it.” 

Stiles huffed. His saddened scent turning bitter with fear. “What if I hurt someone again? I don't want to hurt anyone Peter! Especially not my pack!” 

Peter knew several pack mates were listening in on the conversation. He let them, they needed to know Stiles fear. “Sweetheart, we know you don't want to hurt anyone. Even us wolves loss control from time to time. Do you blame us for that? How many times have you seen a young wolf get aggressive to the point they had to be locked away on the full moon. Do you blame them for that? If they hurt someone when it that state?”

In seconds the boy was shaking his head. “Of course not, they can't control it.” 

Peter smiled brightly. “See love, cut yourself some slack. You are much more powerful then any of us wolves and we can loss control as well. But you, you have only ever hurt someone once... while in the grips of a panic attack something outside of your control.” 

Peter kissed the boys forehead before pulling away. “No sweetheart, smile. It's your birthday and I've made your cake just how you like it. Light on the chocolate icing topped with strawberries. 

The boy chuckled his scent flowing with happiness. 

“Thank you Peter.” 

That smile could brighten the darkest caverns of hell no one could deny that. 

Peter would do anything to keep that smile there.

It was a shame someone was planning on removing it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully I'll have Chapter 3 up soon, I'll try my best.


	3. Chapter 3

One Year later

 

“Stiles come on! Wait up!” Stiles huffed walking faster through the busy hall. He didn't know what was wrong with him today but he was feeling on edge. Was it because he could feel the rune on his back fading again? Maybe it was because a whole year had passed again and he was still struggling to keep his magic under wraps.

 

Whatever it was it was setting Stiles mood and teeth on edge. It was a heaviness in the air that was almost suffocating. A thick fog of “BAD” seemed to be hanging over Beacon Hills and Stiles wasn't sure if it was his magic causing it or something else in general.

 

“Stiles, Buddy come on wait up!” Scott shouted. “You know you need to wait for us, Talia doesn't like it when we don't travel in groups.”

 

Stiles sighed slowing. He knew Scott was right, Talia Hale really did not like the kids and teens in her pack moving around without one or more pack mates in close proximity these days. Not with the sudden strings of death that had hit the town that seemed to be focused solely on the supernatural beings.

 

Now new rules were set for the pack. No leaving the house, school or anywhere for that matter with out one or more pack-mates accompany you. Which, okay honestly Stiles could see where their Alpha was coming from, but with his magic pushing just under the surface of his skin he felt itchy and moody.

 

It was never a good combination for Stiles. Not it the least. He hadn't had an outburst in nearly two years that hurt a pack-mate but it still lingered in the depths of Stiles mind.

 

“Jeez man, what's with you today?” Scott let out an exaggerated sigh.

 

“Sorry buddy, just...” Stiles didn't even know where to begin. “I'm all itchy?”

 

“You're magic making you all twitchy again?” Scott asked swinging his arm over Stiles shoulder. The fox had to fight the urge to shake off his friends arm. His magic was coiled to tight just waiting under the surface to strike.

 

“I'm always twitchy, I'm just....” Stiles didn't know how to explain it. Something was happening in Beacon Hills and his magic didn't like it one bit. “I feel like something bad is going to happen.”

 

Brows raised, a trait Stiles sometimes found annoying when it came to the Hale pack, his long time friend looked down at him.

 

“Nothing bad is going to happen Stiles. The pack will make sure of that, plus your dad and the sheriffs office are already looking into all those deaths.”

 

Stiles sighed. This was things he already knew, things everyone knew but it didn't help with the unease he was feeling.

 

“Don't let him fool you.” Stiles glared over his shoulder as Derek and Laura made there way towards them. “He's just cranky because he still has to wait two more years to fuck uncle Peter.”

 

“Oh god, just...” Scott shuddered. “No Laura just no, there will be no talking about Stiles and Peter... doing that.”

 

If the grin on Laura's face was anything to go by Stiles was about to be every embarrassed.

 

“Oh come on Scott, you can't say the idea of Stiles being bent over Peter's desk getting pounded isn't a hot image.”

 

Stiles sputtered unable to come up with a witty come back while Scott turned impossibly green.

 

“Jesus, Laura. I don't want that image in my head and neither should you for god sake! He's our uncle.” Derek bitched slapping his sister on the back of the head. Laura howled with laughter coming to a stop at the stairs of the front of the school.

 

Stiles quickly sat, ignoring his pack as they waited for the others to arrive so they could head home.

 

The fox knew it wouldn't take long for the others to get here, Laura and Derek made it a point to make sure all the younger teens knew what time to meet everyone in front of the school doors.

 

But sometimes teachers held some of them back. Stiles glanced down at his watch, apparently today was one of those days. Issac and Cora quickly made their way towards the group laughing loudly.

 

“Boyd and Erica will be here in a moment. Erica got in trouble again and Boyd is trying to disarm the situation.” Issac shrugs helplessly speaking in bored tones. Erica is easily annoyed, everyone knew that. So more often then not, a teacher pulled her aside to get on to her. Boyd always stayed behind to make sure his Mate didn't rip anyone's limbs off.

 

Core was just as likely to get held back as Erica.

 

Stiles to when he can't keep his mouth from running ahead of him.

 

They were works in progress.

 

*-*-*-*-

 

They are walking through the preserve when he feels it. The tug against his spark, like cold dead hands gripping and pulling against his shields.

 

Someone was trying to break the spell holding in his magic. Or so he thought, it was a sensation he had never felt before.

 

He freezes, his legs locking in place as he doubles over in pain. Through the ringing in his ears he hears his pack shouting at him. He claws at his chest, trying to hold the his magic in check. As if him physically holding his chest would keep his magic from spilling out.

 

“Stiles!” Scott's screaming finally pierces through the bells sounding in his ears. “Stiles, what's wrong?”

 

His fox senses weren't to great yet, but they were good enough he could catch the hint of fear in his friends scent.

 

“S-Someone...” Stiles gasps, his knees suddenly going weak, he folds in on himself. Only a tanned arm shooting out towards him keeps him from braining himself on the ground.

 

“Stiles!” Cora is shouting his name now, he could almost make out her form to the left of him.

 

“S-Someone is trying to break my spell.” Another tug on his spark has him biting his lip till it bleeds. He never thought it would hurt this bad. Someone trying to force his magic to react.

 

It feels like his skin is being ripped from his bones.

 

A warm solid had wraps around his chest holding him up as he tries to breathe past the pain. The quite hum of Scott's voice in his ear is the only thing keeping him from letting the cold invade his body more.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

He was in a half doze in his sisters office with several other pack-mates when the howl cuts through the air.

 

The cry for help is followed by several others.

 

No one hesitates, someone in the yard answers the kids cries, Peter vaguely takes into account that its James.

 

His wolf is frantic in his mind, unsure of the danger, not caring about what he is really running into blindly. None of the adults seem to care.

 

Their pack children needed help. The only thing that mattered was getting to the teens.

 

Peter could hear sirens in the distance, no doubt Noah answering to the call for help himself. For a human he could pinpoint the meaning behind each howl.

 

They are loud as they move through the trees, sticks snapping under their weight. A few others had shifted darting ahead of the ones on two legs.

 

Peter stayed in human form. If his Mate was in anyway harmed he would need his hands to help.

 

Another cry for help echos through the trees, followed by a very human scream of agony. Peter snarls before he even realizes he's making the noise, because that agonizing noise is none other then his sixteen year old Mate.

 

He picks up the frantic heartbeat before he see's the cluster of teens in maze of trees. Laura is pacing in front Derek her phone to her ear as she shouts over Stiles cries of pain. Cora is bouncing from foot to foot, her large hazel eyes moving over every part of the woods around them watching for danger.

 

Boyd stood back a few paces his large frame blocking the sun for Derek as he leaned over a fallen form. Over the cries of pain he could hear Scott's voice, fast yet soothing as he leaned ever so close to Stiles face.

 

He was almost there, almost in reach of his Mate.

 

His Stiles.

 

Erica's head shot up her eyes finding Peter's in seconds. Her tense shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as she spotted the adults coming towards them.

 

“Peter's here Stiles.” Erica coo's her hands clamped tightly around Stiles wrists.

 

Stiles gasps, tilting his head back against the ground, the muscles in his neck straining as his back bowed off the ground.

 

“S'hurts.” Stiles cries.

 

Peter drops down to his knees beside Derek, his eyes roaming over the withering body on the ground. He could see no injury and didn't smell any blood.

 

“Sweetheart.” Peter breaths cupping Stiles pale cheek, shocked by the frigid temperature of his skin.

 

“Get them out.” Stiles hisses. “Get them out!” He chokes, his neck straining again. “GET THEM OUT!”

 

His mate his shaking uncontrollably now, almost as if his body was seizing. “What baby?” Peter asks, trying to hold his mate still.

 

Stiles huffs a strangled breath, his eyes flared white, the milky color eating away at the burnt honey color of his eyes.

 

“Breaking.”

 

Peter doesn't understand what he means. Can't even get Stiles to tell him what's happening. The boy was to busy trying to hold his magic in check to speak. He slams his back against the ground as he rips a hand free of Erica's hold.

 

His blunt human nails elongate into sharp claws as he rips his shirt to shreds around his chest.

 

“Oh my god!” Scott shouts. Peter's eyes widen. Stiles pale scarred chest is scattered with dark black bruising in the form of large hand prints.

 

“Get them out!” The boy screams again. He shutters on the ground, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head.

 

“Mom, mom!” Laura is yelling over Stiles screams. Peter is simply trying to hold his mate still, keeping him from hurting himself. His claws had retracted, he latched onto Peter's arm, squeezing.

 

“MOM!” Laura grabs her mother by her shoulder practically in the Alpha's face.

 

“Deaton says we need to get Stiles into the basement of the house. Draw a control rune like the one on Stiles back and place him on it.”

 

“S'tired.” Stiles hisses through clinched teeth.

 

“You can't sleep!” Laura snaps. Stiles flinches. Peter fought a growl. “You can't sleep Stiles, Deaton say's if you sleep, Deaton wants to check you over.”

 

A single tear rolls down his pale face.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

The control rune painted onto the cold concrete basement floor only helps Stiles pain so much, but the boy seems to sag into himself once he was placed on it.

 

He's no longer screaming but Peter was certain it was only for his packs benefit the boy keeps from doing so.

 

Peter is bathing the sweat off his forehead with a warm rag. Stiles was sweating but his teeth chattered as if he was freezing. His skin is deathly pale, almost blue in its quality. His breath had turned into a harsh wheeze.

 

“Wa's happening?” Stiles words where a jumbled mess over his chattering teeth and slurred speech. His still milky eyes where now taking on a purple hue as he blinked lazily up at Peter.

 

The boy was fighting so hard to stay awake.

 

“Deaton will be here soon Kiddo.” Noah soothed from the right of Stiles, he was kneeling on the floor by his son. Holding his shaking hand tightly in his own.

 

“Their... gonna get in.” Stiles shuddered again, another harsh wheezed breath escaped his lips. The puff of air was ice cold against Peters skin.

 

Peter fought a shudder of his own, since arriving at the house ten minutes ago Stiles had been mumbling about someone getting in. Each time the wolves would take stock of the surrounding area and each time they found nothing.

 

Peter was certain now Stiles was not talking about the house.

 

“Get in where sweetheart?”

 

“Gonna break.” A pale shaking hand tapped Stiles shuddering chest. “Gonna get in.”

 

The basement door flow open then as Deaton quickly rushed down the stairs with Talia hurrying close behind him.

 

The doctor quickly took stalk of the boys chest, his now gloved hand pressing lightly down onto Stiles over chilled bruised chest.

 

“How was he acting before this started?” Deaton asked glancing up at the worrying teens scattered around the basement.

 

“He's been aggravated the last few days, but he hasn't been in any pain.” Scott chewed on his lip thinking. “He was twitchier as we were leaving school, said the felt like something bad was going to happen.”

 

Deaton hummed, pulling out a pin light and shining it over Stiles now completely purple eyes. “He's unconsciously tapping into someones blood magic.”

 

Peter glanced up at the doctor not liking where this was going. Blood magic was nothing to play around with. It was deadly even for the person who was using it if done incorrectly.

 

“How do you make him stop?” Noah asked glancing nervously towards his son.

 

“Once the spell is done he should be fine. He isn't the one being effected by the spell, he's simply getting the feedback. A spark like I said is a creature of pure intent. So the negative energy the spell is putting off is back firing and bouncing off his shields. It would make him feel as if someone is trying to rip the magic from his soul.”

 

“They're going to get in.” Stiles mumbled his head listing to the side, he jerked his eyes snapping open as he fought off the need to go to sleep.

 

“Stiles, stop fighting it.” Deaton said trying to catch the boys eyes. “I told you before not to sleep because I was worried you were the target. That doesn't seem to be the case, let yourself sleep, the pain will go away.”

 

“No.” Stiles moaned.

 

“Your shields will hold.” Deaton shot back at the boys weak protest.

 

“Won't hurt...” The boy sighed, his eyes dropping closed again before they quickly shot back open. “Stay safe.”

 

Peter frowned. “Are you positive the spell isn't directed towards him?”

 

“Absolutely, blood magic is tricky and needs the victim to be in close proximity to the caster. All Stiles is getting is the feed back of someone being murdered.”

 

One of the young wolves behind Peter whined. Noah cursed. “Stiles, kiddo. Go to sleep buddy.”

 

Stiles whimpered, weakly shaking his head no. “Won't hurt.” He sighed. “Pack.”

 

Peter suddenly understood Stiles reluctance to give in to sleep. Sighing sadly he leaned over his young mate, brushing the sweat soaked hair from his eyes. “You're magic is not out of control love, we are safe and will stay safe. Go to sleep sweetheart.”

 

It took a moment, Stiles eyes searching Peter's before those pain filled orbs rolled into the back of his head as he finally allowed unconsciousness take him.

 

All at once his body went slack against the ground, a calm sigh escaping him as whatever pain he was feeling fled with sleep.

 

“Ah, good.” Deaton quickly checked over the boys pulse before nodding to himself. “The bruising should fade in a few days, I'll give you a cream for any pain he may experience because of it.”

 

“Um.” Issac shuffled slowly forward, unsure of himself. “If the spell wasn't for Stiles, why is he hurt?” Peter's eyes fell to the ugly bruising on the boys chest.

 

“The feedback lope he was experiencing from the blood magic has strong dark energy. His spark noticed that and was unconsciously trying to help the person on the wrong end of that spell.”

 

“Well all it seemed to do was hurt him not help anyone.” Scott snapped.

 

“If he was a bit more trained he probably could have saved them, or in the very least pin pointed where the spell was taking place.”

 

“How did he even pick up on the spell?” Laura asked looking worriedly down at Stiles.

 

“It would seem, Stiles luck has struck again. Sheriff, soon you will unfortunately be heading towards a crime scene shortly after the body is found and two.” Deaton glanced down at the sleeping boy. “Your son has been in very close contact with your murderer.”

 

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

He was warm and engulfed in the soft waves of a cloud. A warm puff of air against his neck woke him.

 

Stiles blinked his eyes into focus, the fading sunlight from the window made the pale white walls glow a pretty shade of pink.

 

It took his sleep filled mind a few moments to figure out where he was. Once that cloud of confusion cleared he bolted up in, hissing in pain as his chest contracted.

 

“Easy sweetheart.” Say a sleepy mumble from his left. A large hand settles on his neck, pulling the sting of pain.

 

“Peter?”

 

His mate hums.

 

“What happened? Is everyone okay?” Had he hurt anyone?

 

Peter sighed before sitting up, the white down blanket pooling at his hips. Stiles fought a blush when his eyes took in the too toned chest. No one had the right to have that many defined abs.

 

“Everyone is fine, your shields held. They where never the problem to began with.” Stiles blinked taking in sleep mused hair and bright blue eyes.

 

“But, it felt like my magic was trying to burn through my skin.” Stiles bit his lip in thought. “Why would it do that if it wasn't going out of control?”

 

Stiles blinked again, suddenly finding himself seated on Peters warm lap. He dropped his head in the curve of Peter's neck and shoulder.

 

Peter gave a pleased rumble. “It would seem, sweetheart. That you have come in close contact with the person behind the killings.”

 

Stiles shuddered his heart giving a wild beat in his chest. Panic flooded his system in seconds. No way. He hadn't been around any killer, it just wasn't possible. He would know wouldn't he? If he was in close quarters with someone who was ripping peoples chest to shreds.

 

Something warm was pressed against his cheek, firm hands pulling his face away from the safety of Peter's neck.

 

He whined, like some sad excuse of a puppy.

 

“Hey, hey. Stiles, sweetheart. Listen to me.” Stiles forced his eyes to focus of Peter's face. His eyes mapping out every sharp line and curve. The dip between his nose and lips.

 

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you. Do you understand?”

 

Trust. Peter was asking Stiles to trust him. Stiles almost snorted. Didn't this man know that there was no one in this world that Stiles trusted more then him. His dad was a close second, but Peter was Stiles safe haven. He trusted him more then he trusted himself to keep him safe.

 

“I understand.”

 

Peter kissed his forehead, a cocky smirk on his lips.

 

“Good.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

After the almost panic attack it took Peter thirty minuets to cox Stiles into going down stairs. The older man was sure it was because his little mate knew, as soon as he was in the presents of their Alpha and his father the questions would start.

 

Peter wanted to linger in bed, keeping his little fox safe and calm, but he knew. He knew no matter how much he wanted to keep Stiles from being stressed, there was no ignoring this.

 

Not if ignoring it would put the life of his mate in jeopardy.

 

That was one thing Peter would never willingly do.

 

So after untangling Stiles from his chest and putting on a shirt he turned Stiles towards the door and headed down towards Talia's office.

 

It was packed, Talia at her desk. James standing just behind her chair, and the Sheriff leaning over a stack of files from the police station. Deaton was putting in his input as well from a plush chair close by. A few worried parents were also lingering in the room, Melissa pacing close by Noah. Still in her dirty scrubs from her shift at the hospital.

 

Melissa spoke first. “Stiles sweetie. How are you feeling?”

 

Noah glanced up from the photo in his hand. He quickly dropped it before covering up the bloody body in the picture.

 

Stiles eyes quickly slid away from the documents on the desk.

 

“I'm fine.” Every wolf in the room caught the lie but said nothing. Peter would deal with it after.

 

“Come take a seat Stiles.” Talia's voice was gentle but his little mate Stile tensed as he slowly made his way towards a chair. He fell into it ungracefully, his teeth already worrying his lip.

 

“Hey kiddo, calm down. Yea?” Noah dropped down on one knee in front of his son. His kind pale eyes tracking over his son's face.

 

Peter took up the spot directly behind Stiles chair dropping a soothing hand onto the back of his neck.

 

Stiles gave a jerky nod, but showed no sighs of calming. He knew this would stress out the boy. Peter was tempted to call of the questioning. Just to calm Stiles some, the frantic pace of his heart was worrying.

 

“We would just like to ask you a few things that's all buddy.”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I know that.”

 

His anxiety was making him snappish. Peter wasn't going to correct him.

 

“Okay, first things first. How are you feeling? Don't lie this time.”

 

Ah, leave to Noah to point out his sons bold faced lie.

 

Stiles sighed. “My chest hurts, and I have a headache, but I'm fine.” Another lie. Peter glared at the back of Stiles head. Talia frowned.

 

“Try again Stiles.” Talia say's frowning towards the Sheriff.

 

Stiles huffed an annoyed breath. “I feel like someone is digging into my chest with an ice pic.” The boy rubbed at his chest. Honey eyes glanced back towards Peter.

 

“Are you sure it's not my magic going haywire?”

 

“We're positive sweetheart.”

 

Stiles frowned. “Promise?”

 

He sounded so young then. So unsure of himself.

 

“Your rune is holding Stiles. It's slightly faded but you and I both know that happens where your magic is concerned. What you are feeling is the feedback from our murderer.”

 

Stiles shuddered. “I don't know what you mean by that.” Again he rubbed at his chest. “I don't know who's killing people.”

 

Noah shook his head. “No, you may not know who it is, but you have been close to them recently. Close enough to pick up on the dark energy. Or so Deaton says.”

 

“But wouldn't I notice a freaking serial killer. I mean, this is Beacon Hill's how many of those could there possibly be?”

 

“Just because someone is a murderer doesn't mean they are going to show outwards signs of it kid.” Noah sighed standing up.

 

“Whoever is doing this could be fairly new to the area. Not everyone talks to the resident Alpha for entry, and most don't if they aren't a shifter of sorts.” Peter mused.

 

“The killings are messy enough to be a shifter, but I think that's just a cover to be honest. We're missing something about these deaths.”

 

“Why tear open someones chest? They left all the organs behind, so we know it's not because of that.” James asked glancing down towards a photo.

 

“Do I really need to be here for this conversation?” Stiles asked voice strained.

 

“Sorry kid, got sidetracked.”

 

“Yea, well stop please?” The boy had his shoulders practically pulled up towards his ears. “It's bad enough I'm feeling it, I'd much rather not have to hear about it too. It's not fun having someone ripping out my soul.”

 

Deaton's head shot up at that, eyes slightly round. “Of course. Thank you Stiles.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Souls. They are stealing the essence of souls. Pure energy of a living being, it's harsh blood magic and takes great control. It takes very rare ingredients too, we could track them by their purchases.”

 

“Why steal someones soul?” Noah asked.

 

Peter answered. “For power of course. That's why all the deaths are of supernatural beings, a human soul won't have the same magical energy that say of a werewolf, a harpy and an nymph.”

 

“Are victims.”

 

“All teenagers too.” Stiles whispered. “Maybe its another kid? Someone smart enough for advanced dark magic?”

 

“It's possible but highly unlikely. It takes a lot of practice to do that kind of magic, and not most teens harbor that much magic.” Deaton gave Stiles a pointed look. “Except you of course and your magic isn't capable of doing blood arts.”

 

“So a spark is off the table.” Peter muses. “Their magic is to pure for that. A dark druid maybe?”

 

Deaton shook his head. “No, blood magic is to draining for a druid. It would more then likely kill them then aid them in gaining power.”

 

“Well it has to be someone a teenage is comfortable enough to get close too. They would have to appear none threatening too.”

 

Noah smiled at his son. “Most teenagers aren't really all that wise in the self preservation area kid.”

 

“Everyone knows about these killings dad, it's been on the new, in the papers and don't get me started on social media. In most cases, yea us teens don't know shit about preservation but I don't think anyone is dumb enough to be talking to strangers when someone is going around slaughtering unsuspecting teens.”

 

Stiles hummed thoughtfully. “I take that back its not a teenager. The killings are to spread out, the different kids from three different school.”

 

Stiles twitched violently. “It's a teacher.”

 

Cleaver, cleaver boy.

 

Peter ran his fingers through Stiles hair in silent praise. “It's a substitute teacher. If it was a teacher already in one of the school they wouldn't be bouncing around between different campuses. A sub moves around to wear they are needed. Three teachers on my schedule our at a conference this week so we have three subs in the school that I'm aware of.”

 

Noah chuckled. “Want a job kiddo? We have an opening.”

 

Stiles smiled. “Give me a couple of years and I'll get back to you on that.”

 

Noah nodded. “Write down the names of the subs, I'll get a list of the others from the school.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

His dad got called away as soon as the meeting ended. A jogger found the body.

 

Stiles throw up as soon as the call came in. Now he sat with his face resting on the rim of the toilet Peter rubbing calming circles on his back.

 

He was glad it wasn't his magic going out of control in his chest, but the alternative has him leaning over the toilet and vomiting again.

 

He felt someone die. He felt someones soul being ripped out of their chest.

 

He wonders silently. Was this how his mother felt?

 

He stays in the safety of Peter's bed the next day. His father asked him if he wanted to go home, but he just didn't feel safe leaving his mate.

 

His father doesn't ask twice, he just kisses his son on his head and wished him a goodnight.

 

Peter stayed home from work, content with staying curled around his young mate. Soothing his anxiety, pulling pain when the bruises on his chest start to ache. Stiles silently wishes not for the first time that he wasn't a spark. That he wasn't a fox with more magic then anyone should have.

 

“I don't want it.” Stiles whispers into Peter's chest.

 

Peter is warm, and safe. Peter was his anchor to the world so he didn't float away.

 

“Don't want what, my heart?” Peter has the best endearments.

 

Stiles would smile, if he didn't feel so lousy. “I don't want this spark.”

 

He didn't want to feel someone die. Wasn't seeing his mother being slaughtered enough? Did he really have to suffer through feeling someone losing their life now too? Would it continue to happen once the person responsible was dead.

 

“That spark makes you who you are darling.” Peter pulls his face from his chest. “Don't ever regret that beautiful light in your soul. It makes you, you. It makes you more lovely then anyone has the right to be.”

 

“It hurts.” It hurts to feel. To taste, to hear.

 

“We will make it better baby. Your father, Talia and the rest of this pack. We will find who ever is behind this and make it better for you, sweet boy.”

 

Stiles love's Peter more then he has any right too.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I just have this thing were I want to hurt Stiles then have Peter make it all better.  
> I'm all for the hurt/comfort.  
> Hope you enjoy, and thank you for the comments and Kudos! :)


	4. Chapter 4

 

He was dreaming that he was sure of. The walls in the room were distorted and frayed around the edges. It was to cold for the warmth of summer. He could see is breath ghosting out in front of him.

 

The smell of a decayed body made him gag. The scent was so strong he was suddenly worried he wasn't dreaming. Taste, smell and touch weren't normally so potent in dreams. Nothing had ever been this vivid in his dreams before.

 

He ran his hand along the icy wall. The frost burned his shaking hands.

 

Panic was setting in he tried to starve off by taking slow steady breaths. The thick fog in the air choked him. There was something burning. An herb so some type. It made him dizzy, his eyes watered and stung.

 

Stiles slowly moved towards the thick heavy metal door. His legs shaking with such intensity they knocked together. The chill in the room was seeping into his skin, under the muscles and bones.

 

He wanted to wake up, he needed to wake up.

 

He strained his ears, the hum of something was present. The scrape of metal against something. Stiles had heard a sound like that before. Once during a cookout. Someone was sharping knives?

 

He wanted Peter.

 

The door in front of him slammed closed suddenly making him jump. A light flipped on, Stiles stumbled back a scream ripping from his throat.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter didn't know what woke him. The darkness in the room momentarily clouded his vision. He blinked taking everything in, nothing in the room seemed out of the ordinary. The door was still tightly closed and the windows as well.

 

And yet, Peter felt as if something was wrong.

 

He rolled onto his side, reaching out his hand to check on Stiles. The boys heart was still steady in his ears. But something still nagged at Peter, something wrong.

 

The foxes skin was as cold as ice. Harsh trimmers assaulted his smaller frame.

 

Peter was up and flipping on the light faster then his mind could keep track of the movements. The pale parlor of Stiles skin wasn't as worrying as his blue lips.

 

Peter was back in the bed and beside his mate in second. The feel of his skin made him flinch. How was in humanly possible for someone to be so cold.

 

“Stiles, sweetheart?” He tapped the boys cheek. Peter got no response but the boys hand twitched Peter's eyes tracked the movements. Eye's wide Peter took in the beds of Stiles nails; the same tinge of blue present like his lips.

 

Peter flow towards the bedroom door and ran towards his sisters room. The door opened with a bang as it slammed against the wall. His sister shot up in bed a snarl on her lips and her eyes blood red. James's claws were extended, ready for a fight that wasn't going to come.

 

“Peter?”

 

“Call Deaton get him here now, with oxygen. Call Noah as well, somethings wrong with Stiles.”

 

Peter was running back to his room before his sister could ask anything else. Derek's head shot out of his room as he ran by. The teen quickly followed after him. Taking notice of his uncles panic, Peter tried to ignore it. He couldn't let fear cloud his mind. He needed to stay focused.

 

Stiles condition hadn't changed since the wolf left the room. Peter had hoped he would have at least shifted some in his icy slumber.

 

“Derek get the first aid kit from my bathroom.” He needed to check the boys temperature. Peter lightly touched Stiles lips, they didn't look anymore blue from the last time but the color was still concerning.

 

He was oxygen deprived. His breath sounds were even but they were shallow. What the hell was happening here? The room was a nice seventy three degrees to keep them cool as they slept.

 

Peter couldn't find a reason for the icy skin.

 

Talia chose the moment to rush in to the room as Derek came rushing out of the bathroom. He paid them no mind, he grabbed the first aid kit from Derek and popped it open. He had the thermometer in his hand and in Stiles ear before anyone could blink.

 

Peter wanted to laugh, the only reason he had the thing was for when Stiles was a small child. He hadn't used it since his little mate was twelve years old and caught a nasty stomach virus. He hated the thing. He hated that Stiles could even get sick.

 

The beep signaled, Peter cursed at the readings. “I need the heated blankets Talia, all of them his fucking temperature is 82.4”

 

Talia rushed to comply. “Derek get your sisters and Isaac up, I need them.”

 

With a frantic nod of his head the teen rushed off.

 

Peter flinched when Stiles heart shuddered. Cupping the boys cheeks Peter leaned forward. “You need to stop with this, I'm not enjoying the sound of your heartbeat little one.”

 

Stiles didn't answer.

 

Peter's door way was suddenly filled with sleep mused teenagers. “Shift all of you.” He got a few strange looks but the kids quickly followed order. Four large wolves now stood in their place.

 

Gently lifting Stiles, Peter removed his shirt before laying him back down.

 

“Get up here, I want the girls up against his arms. Derek and Isaac you take his legs.” Cora tilted her head in question.

 

“He's in moderate stages of hypothermia, your temperature runs hotter when you are in full shift. Now get up here.” The kids practically fell over themselves rushing towards the bed and jumping up. The bed shifted violently, shaking Stiles, and jolting Peter from his perch on the side.

 

The wolves placed themselves as close to Stiles as they could, their warm fur covered bodies draped over his pale cold flesh. Isaac gave a whine to Peter's left, without thinking about it Peter snaked his fingers through the kids fur to calm him.

 

He couldn't panic, none of them could panic. If that set in they would be no use to Stiles and Peter couldn't allow that.

 

“Here Peter.” Talia tossed a blanket towards the worrying wolf to unfold as she shook out the one in her hands. Tucking the slowly heating blankets around his mates torso Peter rearranged Cora who was closest to him, practically seating the girl clear across the boys chest.

 

Peter pulled Issac up as well draping him over his hips and right leg. Derek took notice and followed suit covering his left leg, while Laura wiggled herself closer to the cold boys neck and shoulder.

 

James gave a short howl from down stairs, telling the others someone had arrived. The foot falls of running feet on the stairs had Peter turning towards the door.

 

A very flustered Deaton rushed in. An oxygen tank in hand, his skillful eyes took in the shaking teen. His eyes narrowed as he dropped the tank on the nightstand. “Unroll that tube Peter, while I check him over.”

 

The black leather bag Alan was carrying dropped to the bed as he rummaged through its contents. A pin light and stethoscope were suddenly in hand as he leaned over Stiles.

 

“Cora move down for a moment please.” The wolf shifted.

 

Peter listened to the heartbeat as well, not liking the sluggish attempt at a proper pump of blood. Tube untangled Peter attached the mask to the end before cranking on the air flow and checking the dials to make sure everything was in working order. Satisfied Peter placed the mask on his mates face, helping to give him the oxygen his body was lacking.

 

Another sharp short howl filled the room and like a broken record heavy footfalls filled the silence.

 

Silence that lasted all of two seconds when a winded frazzled Sheriff barreled into the room.

 

“What's happening?”

 

Peter shook his head. “I don't know yet, his skin is ice cold, he's shivering like he's in a fucking blizzard and his lips and nails are blue.”

 

Noah's eyes grow wide, the pungent smell of fear blanketed the room. “That's, what? It's almost ninety degrees outside right now. It's three A.M and hot as hell and my son is freezing to death? Is that what I'm supposed to get out of this?”

 

“I don't know what you want me to say Noah, I was asleep and then I wasn't. At first I thought I woke because their was someone in the room but once I was sure it was nothing like that I checked on Stiles.” And what he had found. Peter had no answers.

 

“He's in REM sleep, he's dreaming. Dream-walking to be exact.”

 

“Dream-walking?” Talia asked looking confused. “I'm sorry Alan, but I don't follow. I've never heard of such a thing before.”

 

Peter agreed silently.

 

“It happens with magic users from time to time, I've done it myself once before and in all honesty it's not something I want to experience again.”

 

Peter laid a hand on Stiles head, checking the boys temperature. He felt a little warmer but not by much.

 

“Explain.” Peter snapped. He didn't have time for this round about bullshit.

 

“While in REM sleep a magic user can enter the dreams of others, see what they see, feel what they feel. The only down fall in dream-walking is they experience what happens in those dream's physically. What ever dream he walked into the climate is below freezing, so his body is reacting to it.”

 

“So what, he's dreaming of the fucking arctic so now he's going to freeze to death?!” Noah shouts.

 

“It doesn't necessarily have to be the arctic, lots of places get below freezing. To be frank, him dream-walking so soon after the incident after school it's possible he's again connecting to someone dealing with your case.”

 

“The murderer? Again?” James says from the doorway.

 

“Or the victim. New victim to be more clear.”

 

“Fuck, okay I don't care, how do we get him out of it?”

 

“We wake him of course.” Deaton deadpans.

 

Peter snarled. “I already tried that, that was the first thing I did. He didn't react to me at all. He hasn't so much as wiggled besides a shift of a damn finger.”

 

Deaton sighed sadly. “The one time I did it, my mother had to hurt me outside of the dream to wake me. I have no spell for this, no other way to wake him. He could very well know he's dreaming but not even he can wake himself. Whatever he is seeing needs to be seen or his magic wouldn't react to it.”

 

“I'm not hurting him!” Peter roared. “No one is fucking hurting him.”

 

There was a hand on his chest, blocking his path to the doctor.

 

“Then he dies Peter. That night, when I did it I was in the mind of someone being ripped apart. My mother found me, in bed my body shredded and covered in blood. I would have died before it was even possible for me to wake myself. The only way she was able to pull me from it was by breaking one of my fingers.”

 

“No.” He refused to do such a thing.

 

“Peter.” Peter snarled again. He could smell Noah's fear, but his voice. His voice was so calm and that pissed him off. How could he be calm, this was his son and they were asking Peter to allow his mate to be hurt.

 

That went against everything he was. Everything his wolf was.

 

“I can't do it, I just can't.”

 

There was a snarl, then the pungent smell of blood. A scream ripped from Stiles throat as he shot up in bed clamping a shaking hand over the bloody bit mark on his forearm.

 

Stiles coughed behind the mask. “What the fuck Cora!?”

 

Peter blinked once, then again. The dark chocolate wolf of his niece gave him a sheepish look.

 

“Well then, that settles that problem.” Alan, so helpfully says sounding smug.

 

The bastard.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles was between sleep and wakefulness. The oxygen mask still attached to his face as he leaned against Peter on the couch. His legs curled behind his dads back who sat to his right.

 

Finally he was warm, but Peter and Deaton had refused to allow him to remove the mask seeing as his lips and nails were still blue. Stiles didn't mind it all that much, seeing as he still felt like he was breathing in ice.

 

But the mask irritated his skin.

 

Talia and Deaton were leaned over a book, the good doctor explaining the... to Stiles great displeasure his dream-walking. The fox was to tired to keep track of the words to be honest, he knew it was important but he just wanted to sleep.

 

Lack of oxygen will do that to a person.

 

His head slid down Peter's shoulder before he jerked it back up. As much as he wanted to sleep, he found he was afraid to do so. What if he ended back in that room? What if he had to smell death and burning herbs again?

 

Both scents had been unpleasant. Almost suffocating in its quality.

 

His dad's hand fell to his calf, rubbing slowly. Stiles eyes started to fall shut again at the motion, it was soothing. And warm. So warm.

 

His eyes dropped closed. The sharp sound of metal hooks rattling had him jerking awake with a cry.

 

Everyone flinched at the sudden sound.

 

“Stiles?” Peter shifted to look down at the boy. Those deep pools of blue looked worried.

 

Without his permission his eyes fell closed once more. He was so tired.

 

A pale frozen arm hung in front of him, momentarily blocking his view. He fell back, his body slamming into the ice slick floor. The scrap of a knife, the manic laugh of a person. Something rattled above him.

 

Stiles jerked awake with a gasp.

 

“Stiles!” Peter was in his face, large hands holding his cheeks as he gently shook the boy. Stiles dimly noticed his dad behind his back, an arm around his sons chest rubbing soothing circles over the heaving body.

 

It was then he noticed he was gasping for air.

 

“S-So many bodies.” He leaned forward towards Peter. “They were hanging from the ceiling from meat hooks.”

 

Lifeless body stung up like a slaughtered animal. Skin bare of any clothes, thin layers of ice coating their flesh.

 

They just hung there, swinging slightly from the force of the airflow.

 

“Did you see a sign Stiles? Anything that could tell you where you were?” Deaton was standing now, a pen and notepad in hand.

 

Stiles eyes dropped closed. He fell into the dream, unwillingly. Terrified. He didn't want to see it. He didn't.

 

Wake up.

 

Wake up.

 

A manic giggle, a lean man pulled open the door. He hummed happily as he walked, fingers sliding over the bodies like he was choosing a piece of clothing from a closet.

 

Stiles flinched coming back to himself. Peter was the one holding him now, his hand laying over the mask on his face. Keeping it in place.

 

“Easy baby, easy. Deep breathe.” Stiles inhaled, tasting ice.

 

“S' a man.” His words were a jumbled mess. Fingers pressed against the pulse on his neck. His dads worried eyes came into view.

 

“No sign.” Stiles heard himself say. He could already feel himself falling into the dream again. Who's dream he didn't know, he didn't want to know.

 

Don't sleep.

 

Please don't let me sleep.

 

He was gone.

 

“Beautiful girl.” The man purred as he pulled a tall women of a hook with ease. He laid her on the floor, brushing her deep mahogany hair from her frosted face.

 

Black eyes glanced up, a wide toothy smile sat on a rugged face. A face he had seen before. Those soulless eyes dropped back towards the body of the girl.

 

A hand caressed her face, almost tenderly. Then he was kissing her, kissing the dead body of a frozen girl. Stiles whimpered, then gagged as a long black tongue snaked out and entered her mouth.

 

The dead body jolted as if electrified. Stiles flinched back pressing himself against the frozen metal wall.

 

A metal table caught his eye, large meat cleavers sat upon it. Old blood and bones lay scattered around.

 

A sharp gasp and inhale of air pulled Stiles eyes back to the pair. The mans body hit the ground spamming once before falling still. Black liquid oozed from the mans mouth. It didn't take a genius to know the man was dead.

 

The girl stood then, her bones cracking loudly in the silence of the room. A high giggle sounded. Caramel hands traced the naked body, the fox quickly turned his head away.

 

“Beautiful girl.” The woman whispered, walking away with a happy jump in her step. Like she hadn't been dead a moment before. Like she hadn't been some frozen dead corpse hanging from a ceiling in a fucking industrial freezing.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles came awake screaming, he jerked violently in Peter's arms as he choked on his own breath.

 

“I got you baby, I got you.” Peter rocked him, a hand on his chest resting over the pounding heart.

 

The last ten minutes had been the most terrifying of Peter's life. Watching his mate shake and choke on his own breath. Peter unable to wake him. Noah shouting and shaking the boy as if it would have helped.

 

Peter had almost broken the mans arm when he had reached forward braking his own son's finger.

 

Now he had a sobbing mess of a mate in his lap. The bite mark Cora had inflected on him hardly healed, now accompanied by a broken ring finger on his right hand. Stiles didn't seem to notice, or care.

 

Peter knew his eyes shined blue, his wolf close to the surface ready to maim anyone who came in close contact with his mate.

 

“Was a meat locker.” Stiles babbled through his tears. “A big industrial meat locker, and there are bodies hanging in there.”

 

The boys voice was muffled by the mask. “A man, Mr. Maxwell. He was my sub for English, he was there but... H-he did something and now he's dead. He kissed t-that dead girl, then he died.”

 

His mate shoved his face into Peter's neck. “The girl got up Peter, the fucking dead girl crawled to her feet like she wasn't just some hanging meat and skipped away.”

 

There was a frenzy of motion at the coffee table from Deaton as he tossed books around looking for one in particular.

 

“What did you see exactly Stiles? Claws perhaps or maybe a tail? Anything to point me in the right direction on what I'm looking for.”

 

Stiles shuttered, pulling himself impossibly closer to Peter's chest. The man held him tighter.

 

“Black eyes... and a tongue like a snakes but black. A-after he died something oozed from his mouth, like oil only thicker and darker.”

 

“You positive Stiles?” The doctor asked.

 

Stiles tensed. “No, I'm lying because I want to waist your time with false information.” Stiles snapped. “Yes, I'm positive, as sure as I am that I have a dick in between my legs.”

 

“Stiles!” Noah snapped.

 

Peter chuckled, the bit off the sound when his sister glowered his way.

 

“What?” Stiles snapped back at his dad.

 

Noah sighed. “Nothing kiddo.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just forgot how mouthy you get when your tired.”

 

“Sorry.” The boys mask fogged with his words. He pulled on it as if to take it off, Peter's hands stopped him.

 

“Leave it baby.”

 

Stiles scowled in answer, but he left it be. Peter kissed him on the head as he pouted he couldn't let his little mate be so upset.

 

“It's a basilisk.” Deaton says as he slaps his hand over a open book.

 

Peter's eyes narrowed. “What Stiles described did sound like a basilisk to an extent, with the eyes and tongue but they shift into king of serpents and eat their pray whole. They don't leave left over's or steal souls.”

 

“True, but a basilisk has a cousin if you will, the difference is they are body snatchers. Since they don't have human form they enter the body of a corpse through the mouth and control it with magic from within.”

 

Stiles sniffed. “You're saying the teacher I had the other day was not only already dead, but there was a snake inside? Like some crazy ass alien shit?”

 

“Alien?”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes, while readjusting the mask. “Do you not watch movies? That's one of the best ones out there. He knows Merlin but not Alien, go figure.”

 

“Glossing over Stiles interruption, I'd say the soul snatching is because of the age of the beast. They can live to be thousands of years old, but with time comes the dwindling of their magic. The only way to restore that magic....”

 

“Taking the souls from other creatures.” Peter hummed.

 

“So how big of a snake are we talking here?” Noah asks, looking slightly green. Peter raised an eyebrow. Who would have guessed the Sheriff had a thing about snakes.

 

“The can change their size to fit in a human, but once out they are normally a good twelve foot long, two foot wide. Some have been known to get bigger. Considering the amount of souls it's stealing and how quickly it's taking them I'm going to say the one we are hunting is much larger.”

 

Noah shifted. “Fucking fantastic.”

 

Stiles suddenly laughed, the sound still loud from behind the mask. “Dad's terrified of snakes. There was one in moms garden once, just your average green garden snake. Mom picked it up, dad was gone so fast I swear he left smoke trails.”

 

Noah snorted, his scent taking on a hint of amusement. “God that woman, she teased me for months.”

 

“You so deserved it, you squealed dad. Like a pig that just got kicked in the balls.”

 

“I will neither agree or disagree with that statement, because if I made any sound I'm sure it wasn't that of a pig.”

 

“Yea, whatever you say daddy-O.”

 

A sharp clap of hands together made the laughing father and son jump. “Let's get back on track, to kill a basilisk it needs to be out of its host, because the only way to kill it.....”

 

“Is to behead it.” Deaton gave Peter an annoyed look. The man smirked in return. Alan hated to be interrupted.

 

“Yea, okay.. So chop off the head of a giant pissed of snake. Fantastic, that's going to be so great to clean up afterwards. I mean can you imagine the amount of blood that thing is going to let loss once it loses it's head?”

 

Amused, Peter glanced down towards his mate. If he could work himself into a tangent about killing a snake without taking a break or breath he was feeling much better. Broken finger aside, which he still hadn't seemed to notice. Peter narrowed his eyes.

 

“I mean how do you even get it to come out, I don't suppose someone has a rat the size of a dog laying around do you? We could use a dog if that would work, I would prefer not to of course but unless we make a genetically altered mutant rat soon I think are options are limited here.”

 

“We use a spell Stiles.” Deaton deadpans, his face blank of any emotion like the kid had just sucked it out of him. Peter smiled brightly.

 

“Oh, yea okay a spell.” Stiles wrinkled his nose. “That's not as fun, you could have let me try turning a goat into a rat with my magic first.”

 

Stiles ripped the mask of his face then tossing it aside. Rubbing at his face and mouth he sighed happily.

 

“Turn a goat into a rat on your own time kid.” Noah says with a loud laugh. And Stiles, he gave his father such a wide smirk the cop paled.

 

“I was joking, don't go turning no damn goats into rats.” That tone was one hundred percent cop voice.

 

“What about Jackson Whittemore?”

 

“Stiles!”

 

“Ugh, fine.” Stiles throws his hand in the air, mumbling under his breath. “Won't let me have any fun.”

 

“Sorry Deaton, you were saying about the spell?” The vet glared at the now pouting fox before turning back to his cold self.

 

“Yes, the incantation is simple enough, but the problem with that is the ingredients. Some are extremely rare and hard to get a hold of.”

 

“Of course they are.” Stiles mutters. Peter smiles at the pissy tone. It amused him the most when Stiles acted this way, all sarcasm and spunk.

 

“How rare?” Peter decides to ask before his little mate can going off on a talking spree again. He could already feel one building in his sweet mate.

 

“We need a dragons tooth, and the saliva of a goblin.”

 

Stiles shot a hand into the air. “Wait, hold on. Seriously, both of those died out years ago. Unless someone decided to stock up on that three hundred years ago it's going to be next to impossible to find those items before that thing swaps bodies again. I know what skin it's wearing right now, and I don't think it's picked its next target yet. I would really like to see that thing dead before I get pulled into anymore weird dreams and feel someone's fucking soul being ripped out.”

 

“Jesus kid, language. You're sixteen and swearing like a sailor.” Noah grips, shaking his head at his son.

 

Stiles shrugs. “I'm freaking tired, my finger hurt, thanks for that by the way and I just watched a snake french kiss its way down some dead bodies throat. I figured I was allowed a little swearing!” His hand waved in front of him for dramatic effect. So he had known about the finger. Hmmm.

 

Peter rubbed his back to calm him. The boy was working himself up into a fit of annoyance and panic. The snappish reply's, the extra wave of his hands. The wide eyes. Peter knew when Stiles was about to fall head first into a panic attack.

 

A worried, tired Stiles was a recipe for disaster.

 

“He has a point Noah, not about the swearing of course but about the items we need. It would take months to get them if we even could. The body count would be massive by then.”

 

Talia decided to speak up then. “Do you have another option then?”

 

Deaton glanced at Stiles, Peter reacted. Tightening his hold on the boy, a growl already rumbling in his chest.

 

“We use Stiles.”

 

Stiles flinched. “You mean, like as in bate?”

 

Peter snarled at the words.

 

“Yes, bait. If we drop his rune, the basilisk will be drawn to his magic in no time at all. And since he doesn't need an incantation or a hex bag to preform a spell he could pull the beast out of it's host and someone can take it's head.”

 

Noah was shaking his head wildly. “No, no way in hell my kids getting near that thing.”

 

“Do you have another option?”

 

Peter's wolf was crawling under his skin. Pushing at the edges of his mind, anger, fear, maim, kill. Take out the threat to its mate, and right this moment the threat to his mate was right in front of him.

 

The only thing that kept him from attacking was the warm body on his lap and the calming hand over his heart.

 

“Hey big bad wolf, calm down.” Those pale finger stroked his chest through his shirt. “We have to do this, and with you there and everyone else we will possibly need nothing is going to happen to me.”

 

“NO.” No, he wouldn't allow it.

 

Stiles sighed, determined he grabbed Peter's face shifting his head so he was looking into pale whiskey eyes. He tried not to hiss when the motion jolted his broken finger.

 

“I don't want to feel that thing kill again Peter, I don't want to see into the minds of its victims. So please, let me do this. I trust you to protect me.”

 

Peter growled. “NO, so many things could go wrong. Someone could react to slowly, it could attack before you even had time to magic it's ass out of its body. I can not risk you.”

 

“You will risk him no matter which option you chose Peter.” The wolf's lips pulled back over his teeth.

 

“Shit.” Noah dropped down on the couch, face in his hands. “We're doing this aren't we, we're taking my sixteen year old son out there to battle a fucking monster snake.”

 

“Yes, it would seem we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos! And I hope you enjoyed this last chapter.  
> Till the next one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for underage kissing incase that bothers some.

 

 

Stiles was suddenly not so sure of this plan of action. Don't get him wrong, he was very well protected. Peter was well hidden a few yards behind him, his dad wasn't to far off either his gun at the ready. Talia took a spot up in a tree eyes watching, her husband in the one beside her.

 

Derek was the closest to him, a tree to his right about fifteen feet about him. Laura was somewhere out there as well. They had been the only two of the kids allowed to come besides Stiles himself.

 

Oh the others complained, not liking the idea of not having Stiles back but Talia wasn't going to allow it. Too many people to keep an eye on she said. Stiles had silently agreed, he didn't want to see any of his family hurt.

 

There was also some hunter here, someone Talia trusted enough to allow his to take a spot up in a tree with a sniper rifle. Chris Argent. Stiles had dug up everything he could on the man and his family. A dead wife, a daughter Stiles age. Father and Sister MIA. No record of illegally hunting anything that wasn't marked to take out.

 

If Talia was willing to trust him so was Stiles.

 

Not that a gun, a rifle even would do much to the thing but it would slow the bastard down in any case if it was needed.

 

If Stiles remembered correctly Peter was the one with the ax. Stiles was glad for that, because he knew Peter wouldn't allow the thing to eat his ass.

 

And Deaton, they had the Druid stay back at the cars. Oh he had magic, but nothing that would help on the fly. He was there more to help anyone who got hurt in the process. A few cops were on stand by as well with him.

 

They were a good mile or so from the old abandoned meat packing place. The only one in town that still had working electricity. Someone had been paying the bills, keeping on the lights and ultimately using the place to hid all its meat suits.

 

The thought made Stiles gag.

 

Now all Stiles had to do was drop the rune on his back and let the thing home in on his magic. It was easy enough sure, but it has been years since Stiles hadn't had the thing on his back. Not since the day his magic came into play. Almost killing him too, but Stiles wasn't going to dwell on that right this moment.

 

Nope, he was to busy freaking the fuck out.

 

He was about to be live bait for a giant freaking snake that likes to munch of souls and climb into someones body. He didn't know what was worse, the thought of having his soul ripped out if this went wrong or that thing crawling down his throat. Both were disturbing but it was a toss up on which was worse.

 

“Breathe baby.” Peter's voice filtered towards his ears through the trees, it was only then did he realize his was gasping for breath. “You're okay, I won't let anything happen to you.”

 

Stiles took a breath, held it for ten seconds before slowly exhaling. It didn't really calm him, but it keep it his lungs from feeling like they were seizing up.

 

He rolled his shoulders and looked towards were his dad was hiding. Everyone had on some damn scent blocker besides Stiles so it bothered him to no end that he couldn't smell his pack. He knew they were there with him but since his fox started to show through he had been relying on his sense of smell more often then not.

 

So suddenly not smelling anything but the earth beneath his feet, the trees surrounding him and a animal here and there he felt like he was alone. He sniffed, hoping just maybe to at least smell Peter, but of course he didn't. Deaton's scent blocker was no joke.

 

“We're right here will you sweetheart, just take your time. When your ready I'll know.” Peter reassured him. It was something the older man was good at, Stiles relaxed. Peter said Stiles magic smelled of silver, so at least the wolves would know when he released his magic. Then they would give the signal to the few who didn't have their sense of smell.

 

Stiles let his shoulders go slack before removing the seal on his back. His magic surged at once, making his blood hum and his world brighter. He shifted back on his feet with the force of it.

 

Peter gave one sharp howl before falling silent.

 

Everything fell quite. The animal, the trees even the earth under his feet seemed to still.

 

He wasn't waiting long before he heard it. The slam of feet across the warm ground, the thing didn't try to hide the fact that it was coming. Sticks snapped under its weight, a hiss filled the air.

 

Stiles was suddenly terrified.

 

A girl jumped around the bend of a tree, sliding to a stop. Eyes black as a raven. She licked her lips testing the air.

 

“Amazzzing magic.” It hissed, taking a slow swayed step toward him.

 

Stiles took a step back, trying to concentrate of his magic. Get the snake out of the dead girl, pull it out so Peter could chop off its head.

 

The thing was coming at him faster now, Stiles stumbled back. His mind freezing up on what he was suppose to be doing. Peter shifted from behind him, a branch above him creaked as Derek shifted his weight.

 

Before panic could set in completely he pulled at his magic, picturing the snake sliding out of the girls body.

 

The thing jerked, gagged. Then the black vile thing fell out towards the ground growing in size with every second.

 

Stiles took off towards the trees getting out of the things reach. The bastard was a good fifteen foot long. A gun shot rang out just as something slammed into his back.

 

He collided with a tree, falling into darkness.

 

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter didn't stop when he saw his mate fall, no matter how much he wanted to run to him and check him he had a job to do. He rushed forward ax raised as one shot rang out, followed by another.

 

Noah and Chris firing one after the other to keep the thing back and away from his fallen mate. Derek jumped from his perch rushing towards Stiles. The snake bowed back ready to strike at Derek, it's head was gone in that next second.

 

The ax hitting the thing dead on, connecting with the tree behind it. Effectively removing it's head.

 

Peter kicked the head away from the body as Talia appeared next to him. Deaton had said it would be best to torch it to be on the safe side. Talia did just that.

 

“Stiles? Stiles?!” Derek's frantic voice had Peter moving.

 

He was beside the pair in minutes, concerned for his still mate until the boy rolled onto his back with a groan.

 

“That's not what I had in mind.” Stiles complained, sitting up his hand going to his bleeding head.

 

Peter gave a sharp laugh. “Well, the plan was effective none the less.” Peter tilted Stiles head back looking over the gash on his forehead. It was a bit deep and was bleeding good.

 

“You'll live love.” Peter says after a moment, smiling when Stiles rolls his eyes.

 

“Seriously kid?” Noah asks stomping over towards his son. “How do you fall backwards while running forward? Then slam into a tree, just to hit another tree on the way down.”

 

“I panicked!” Stiles says waving his arms towards the snake. “Did you see how fucking big that thing was! It could eat me then decide it was still hungry and munch on Derek next.”

 

Noah sighed rubbing his hand over his face. “You have been walking since you were one and yet you still amaze me with how well you don't know how to work your feet.”

 

“Bite me!” Stiles snaps, crossing his arms and pouting. “I got the thing out of it's body at least.” He grumbled angrily.

 

“You did great sweetheart.” As much as Peter wanted to tease Stiles too, he knew better right this moment. His little mate was grumpy, probably had a headache from hell and covered in sweat. Peter was sweating pretty bad himself, it was rather hot out tonight.

 

“Anyone want snake for dinner?” Laura asks with a laugh.

 

Stiles throws a stick at her.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

There were twelve bodies hanging from meat hooks in the freezer. Men and women all sizes and shapes. All of various skin tones, all with toe tags from a morgue. Peter was breathing through his mouth. The room outside the freezer smelled of rotting flesh, the dead corpse in the corner was the cause.

 

“This thing has been busy.” Chris says stepping over a clotted blood puddle.

 

“Four dead kids, a dozen in the freezer he stole and that poor bastard over there.” Peter agrees.

 

He was glad Stiles had went back to the Hale house with Derek and Laura. He had already seen this place in his nightmare, he didn't need to see it in person.

 

“How many of those things are out there in the world?” Noah asks slipping a knife into an evidence bag. They may had killed the thing, but the case was still open until they had everything in lock up that had been involved in the murderers.

 

“Basilisk are a dying race, so if I had to guess I'd say about sixty. Not counting the one Peter just killed.” Deaton says. The doctor was collecting all the spell books and ingredients moving slowly as to not touch the wrong this the wrong way.

 

Black magic was tricky, there was no telling what kind of energy some of those things mixed together would set in motion.

 

“They all need to hurry up and die out.” Noah mutters. Peter tries not to chuckle at the mans shudder.

 

He really didn't like snakes. Peter would keep that in mind for the right time.

 

“I wasn't expecting this many bodies, we're going to need more body bags and a second bus to transfer them.” Someone Peter hadn't bothered to get the name of says to his right.

 

He hadn't actually had to come here, but he wanted to see what had made Stiles so upset. What could have possibly killed him if we hadn't woken him from the dream.

 

He looked back towards the freezer, the thing was set on its lowest setting. Sitting at a nearing negative thirty degrees. That innocent freezer had almost took his mate from him. The sound of a door sliding open drew Peter's eyes away from the metal death trap.

 

“Oh god.” Someone gagged.

 

Peter's eyes watered from the smell coming from the opened door. He moved towards it not breathing.

 

“Stiles will have a field day with this.” Peter says with a laugh.

 

Noah groaned. “Please Peter, I never ask for anything but don't tell him this was here.”

 

Peter smiled. How could he not. The cop who opened the door had just found a room of dead goats. It seems the snake had a taste for them.

 

He could practically hear his mates laughter now.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter was right. Stiles was crackling with laughter, bent at the waist as he tried to catch his breath past the loud chuckles.

 

“I knew we should have tried the goat thing!” Stiles beams up at Peter. “I wouldn't have even had to turn them into rats. I still want to try though, can you imagine the look on someone's face if they saw a rat that size!”

 

Peter's head shot forward as Noah slapped him on the back of the head. “You just had to tell him didn't you?” The Sheriff bitches, scowling over towards Peter and his son.

 

“Hey!” Stiles complains slapping at his dads hand. “Hands off the mate pops. You know as well as I do that Peter tell me everything.”

 

Stiles gave an evil smirk. Peter chuckled. “I mean everything.”

 

Noah throws his hands up into the air. “Nope, hell no. I don't care and I sure the hell don't want to know. What you two do is none of my business. As long as it doesn't involve making babies I don't care. But I sure the hell don't want to know about it.”

 

Noah turned to stomp off and Peter laughed because if the look on Stiles face was anything to go by the man wasn't leaving unless he was red in the face.

 

“Did you just give me permission to fool around with Peter?!”

 

Noah's feet flattered before he was moving faster. Stiles took chase. Peter took a drink of his tea.

 

“Does that mean I can touch his cock?” The wolf chocked. Laura howled with laughter from somewhere in the house. Peter was sure he heard Cora gag from her room.

 

“Stiles, damn it kid, shut up!” The boys father was out of the house the door slamming behind him as he ran.

 

Peter whipped at his mouth, cleaning up the tea he had gotten on himself and the table. Peter was ashamed to notice Noah wasn't the only one with a red face. Talia was roaring with laughter beside him.

 

“You sat there knowing he was going to say something to that extent and yet you seemed more surprised then Noah did.”

 

Peter cleared his throat. “We don't do such things Talia.” Peter didn't even tease the boy with it. He could hold out. It was Stiles who was having the hard time. Then again he was a teenager, a horny teenager. Peter had been there once as well.

 

“He's a boy, one who has a seventh birthday coming up, one who will be eighteen next year.” Talia smiled and Peter found it quite unnerving. “Better get ready little brother, because that boy is going to climb you like a tree as soon as he is of age.”

 

“Why are we even having this conversation!” Peter snaps, he had forgotten were Laura got her twisted sense of humor from.

 

“Because it's funny as hell!” Peter huffed. Of course Laura would add her two cents in from a completely different room.

 

“Because the look on your face amuses me, and because I can smell sexual frustration. You and Stiles have been torturing all of us with it. Stiles more so then you, you have had your mate for six years. I've waited this long to tease you about it, Stiles just gave me the perfect opening.” Talia crackled with laughter again.

 

Laura came barreling into the kitchen. “I'm pretty sure it's because uncle Peter is suffering from blue balls is why he's been so cranky lately.”

 

Peter stood quickly then rushing out of the room. “I hope you two know this family has no sense of decency!”

 

How did talking about goats turn into Peter's possible case of blue balls.

 

Jesus, sometimes he thinks he was left on their door step. There was no possible way he could be related to those two.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

 

The last place Stiles wanted to be right was in school. It was loud and boring, and he really just wanted to be spending time with Peter. Even though Peter was at work doing god knows what with his time.

 

Okay Stiles knew what Peter was doing, but still. Stiles rather be with him rather then suffering through one of Harris's shit lectures. The guy was such a stick in the mud. Crabby as hell too, Stiles sometimes wondered why he became a teacher with how much he seemed to hate working with teenagers.

 

And what was making Stiles day worse?

 

Scott. His best friend. His brother in every way besides blood.

 

The idiot was currently sitting in front of Stiles drooling all over himself because of one Allison Argent. Don't get Stiles wrong, she was a very pretty girl. Cute dimples, all that long wavy black hair and dark eyes. If Stiles had a thing for girls, he would see where Scott was coming from.

 

But he didn't have a thing for girls or men for that matter.

 

He only had a thing for Peter, but he couldn't touch Peter yet, so Scott's hormones were pissing him off. How could someone get that turned on by looking at the back of someones head?

 

He didn't smell like that when he was close to Peter did he?

 

Oh god, he really hoped not. That would be embarrassing. Peter could probably smell it at all times!

 

Stiles dropped his head on his deck with a thump. He need to calm down, if he got to worked up his magic would react, and since he didn't have a rune on his back for the last two weeks now he didn't want to take any chances.

 

As glad as he was that he was controlling it he didn't want to push his luck. So far he was doing quite well. Not a single out burst. Deaton was pleased, as was Stiles but the doctor had told him to stay cautious. He planned to do just that.

 

Scott gave some happy sigh in front of Stiles making the boy lift his head off his desk. And to Stiles horror Scott had his chin in his hand lazily smiling in Allison's direction eyes all gooey with love. Stiles kicked his chair making the boy jump.

 

Stiles chuckled.

 

“Stop staring, you do anymore of that this period and your going to burn a hole right through her.” He whispered.

 

“Isn't she the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?” Scott asked with his own whisper.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yea, she's the fairest of them all.”

 

Freaking puppy love or werewolf love. Did it really matter what he called it? It was sickening and Stiles sounded bitter as hell.

 

Stiles groaned. One year and a week. Stiles only had to wait one year and a week before he could get his rocks off on Peter. Well. With the really Peter and not his imagination. There was only so much Stiles could do with the palm of his hand and his fingers.

 

Maybe he should invest in a sex toy. Order it under his dad names too for constantly teasing Stiles about being unable to have sex.

 

He was about to be a seventeen year old virgin! How sad was that, but it wasn't shocking seeing as his mate was ten years older then him. And the fact he had met his mate when he was freaking ten years old.

 

Stiles had been fantasizing about Peter since he was thirteen and watched his first porno. That's why he refused to let Peter anywhere near his room at home. The last thing he needed was to smell the hormones Stiles put off thinking about him and touching himself.

 

“Jesus Stiles.” Scott suddenly said in a hushed voice. “What the hell are you thinking about, you smell like you just got laid dude.”

 

Fucking were senses.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles was not happy, not even a little. In the last week he had only gotten to see Peter a total of two times. With Stiles school work and the demand for Peter's work they hadn't had the chance to spend a lot of time together.

 

And that, that just wasn't freaking right. Sometimes he wished he actually lived with the Hales, but Stiles needed to take care of his dad. It's what he lived for, making sure his dad ate right. Making sure he got enough sleep, and took a break when he has been working nonstop for two days.

 

But Stiles was at his limit, he needed a Peter fix soon or he was going to go on a killing spree. It was Saturday and his dad had already left for work. All Stiles was doing was laying in bed like a bum, he glanced at the clock. Noon maybe he would go to Peter's job and bring him some lunch because Peter would get so caught up in making something he forgot to eat.

 

A bad habit everyone seemed to have. With that thought in mind Stiles crawled out of bed and got quickly dressed.

 

Peter wasn't a big fan of sandwiches so Stiles only prepared one for his dad to drop off on his way to see Peter. He was in a better mood with the thought of seeing Peter so he packed his dad a piece of pie to go with his turkey sub.

 

Now for Peter. He liked his food healthy, there was chicken in the refrigerator. Chewing on his lip he sliced the meat in small pieces and grilled it in a skillet. While the meat cooked he started preparing the salad.

 

Fresh lettuces, cabbage thin sliced tomatoes. Peter didn't like thick chunks, something about how it popped in his mouth that he found disgusting. Sliced carrots, and green bell-peppers. He didn't like the red ones. When the chicken was done Stiles tossed it on top, before adding walnuts.

 

Now the only problem was dressing. Ranch was out of the question, because Peter was the only person alive who hated the stuff. Italian he didn't like with chicken.

 

So blue cheese it was then. Stiles hated it, but kept some on hand for Peter on the night he joined them for dinner and Stiles made a salad as a side dish.

 

Satisfied with his lunch choices for his two favorite people he was on his way. He grabbed his keys and phone and practically ran towards his jeep. Stiles loved the thing, though it made some god awful noise when it shifted between second and third, and was held together mostly by duck tape it was his baby.

 

Sometimes Stiles swears if he inhales just right, at the right moment. He could smell his mother.

 

To say the fox wasn't surprised by his dads over excited scent when he spied the pie he would be lying. The mans love for junk was unbelievable you would think after so many years of Stiles trying to shove healthy food down his throat he would learn by now.

 

He had had thanked him with a grin then waved him off when Stiles told him were he was going.

 

Stiles had only been to Peter's shop a few times, not because he didn't like it there but because Peter loved his job so much Stiles didn't want to get in his way. Though most of the time when he stopped by he was perfectly content with watching Peter work.

 

The man was just that gorgeous. Plus what he could do with his hands and a piece of wood was mouth watering to Stiles.

 

Then again, he wasn't thinking about wood when he watched Peter work. At least not that type.

 

Chuckling to himself at his own joke he pushed open the door to the shop. A light chime of a bell signaled the arrival of someone. It was a useless feature for Peter of course, but he was already installed when he bought the place so he left it.

 

What he saw when he walked in made his blood boil. Oh no he wasn't pissed at Peter, because the wolf looked like he was ready to rip some heads off, or hands.

 

The hand that kept reaching out and caressing his mates arm.

 

Stiles saw red. The down fall to Peter's good looks? The fucking women and on occasion men but mostly the fucking chicks. Coming into the shop and flirting with Peter. Not that he really blamed them, the man was sex on legs, but that was Stiles mate and he was about to bite that bitches hand off.

 

“Hello Peter.” Stiles purred as he slid to his mates side. Side eyeing the blonde bimbo in front of them. All large fake tits and an over whelming amount of perfume. She smelled like a whore who took a dip in vanilla.

 

Peter beamed caressing Stiles cheek. “Hello love, to what do I owe the pleasure.”

 

God he loved this man.

 

With an flutter of his eyelashes he looked up at his mate. A small shy smile on his lips. The woman sneered as Peter attention was taken away from her.

 

“I brought you lunch, I thought you could take a break and enjoy it with me.” Stiles licked his lips, tilting his head to the side a bit. Using his large amber eyes to his advantage. Stiles knew Peter loved his eyes.

 

“Sounds lovely.” Peter purred, sliding his fingers over the pulse in Stiles neck.

 

The woman suddenly smelled of rage and envy. Stiles fought a smirk.

 

“We were talking kid, can't you wait a moment. I'm sure your Uncle has better thing to do.” Stiles froze, his eyes narrowing. Oh, hell no. He was not going to be dismissed by the slut looking for a booty call with his mate.

 

Carefully sitting the sealed bowl down on the counter, Stiles tilted his head back and up smiling sweetly towards Peter.

 

His wolf didn't disappoint. He leaned forward, his lips tenderly touching Stiles before his tongue was tasting the caverns of his mouth. Kissing, god did Stiles love kissing Peter. Since it was the only thing the man was willing to do with him until he was eighteen.

 

But Peter had never kissed him like this before. His tongue was hot, tasting slightly of warm honey and Earl Gray Tea. The slow slide of it against the roof of his mouth and the seem of his lip made his knees week.

 

When Peter's hand slid through his hair to deepen the kiss Stiles was sure he was going to orgasm.

 

Peter pulled back, and Stiles? He whined low in his throat at the loss of him. He took a breath to calm himself, his eyes sliding towards the chick.

 

Her mouth was hanging open, face flushed red with her anger.

 

“As I was saying Lana, I can't join you for lunch, dinner or anything for that matter.” Peter once again slid his fingers over Stiles neck. “I have a beautiful mate right here, and honestly I've never been a fan of fae. You all smell to much like soil and moss. It's not something I enjoy on the best of days.”

 

The woman fumed and Stiles knew right then, she was not happy with Peter's answer.

 

“You rather have a child, then a women who knows what she is doing in bed? Really Peter, I thought you knew quality when you saw it.”

 

Stiles was not, for any reason hurt by that woman's words. It wouldn't be the first time he had heard someone say Stiles wasn't good enough for Peter. It didn't sting, it really didn't.

 

But it sure the hell pissed Peter off.

 

Peter's blue eyes darkened with rage. “Oh dear, your jealousy is showing.” Peter took a threatening step forward. “I would think carefully before you open that mouth of yours again. I know quality. I've seen the finest, and Stiles my mate.” Peter dragged out the word.

 

“He's beats everyone, and I mean everyone when it comes to quality. You my dear are nothing but fake hair, breast that over flow and look unnatural. So you can give good head? Is that why I should chose you? No I think not, your nothing more then a one trick pony. And the one thing I hate more is someone disrespecting my mate. Now get lost, and if you step foot my shop again I'll shove a nicely carved lap so far up your ass you will taste it.”

 

The woman sputtered, eyes wide with fear before she was turning on her six inch heels and running from the shop. Peter's snarl followed her the whole way.

 

Stiles giggled. “Peter, don't waste laps on bimbo's, how will you get paid for such amazing work if she's walking around with it shoved inside her.”

 

Peter smiled. “Think of it as marketing. Every where she went they would see my work.”

 

Laughing Stiles kissed him lightly on the lips. “Come on big bad, I made you lunch, you need to eat it before you go the rest of the day without food until dinner.”

 

“Lead the way sweetheart.”

 

Yes, if there was one thing Stiles would always be sure of. It was Peter's love for him.

 

His wolf.

 

His Peter, would always choose him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for graphic sex. The over use of the word cock, and the fact that Stiles is a kinky little shit.   
> This chapter is basically porn.

 

If there was one thing Stiles had never experienced while at the Hale house was silence. He was sure he was suppose to meet Derek here today to go out to the lake but there wasn't a car in sight. It was a type of quite that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on in.

 

Stiles had used his key to get inside, but he was positive no one was here. The scent of his pack wasn't even as potent as it would normally be if someone had been home recently. Chewing on his lip he moved from the living room to the kitchen.

 

Maybe someone had left a note about where everyone was. Derek wouldn't make plans with him the flake out. At least not without a good reason or telling Stiles for that matter.

 

What he hadn't been expecting when he turned flipped on the kitchen light was to have a heart attack.

 

“SUPRISE!” A choir of voice's scream out.

 

Stiles jerked back with a scream, that quickly turned into a sharp howl of surprise.

 

His world dimmed at the edges.

 

 

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter wasn't so sure this was a wise idea, but Laura and Scott were adamant on a surprise birthday party for Stiles eighteenth. When they had brought it up a month ago Peter only agreed because he hadn't thought they would be able to keep it a secret.

 

They proved him wrong of course, so now everyone was subjected to wear the scent blocker Deaton had made for the hunt a year ago for the basilisk. Stiles cake sat on the island bar, all milk chocolate three tears tall with strawberries.

 

Decorations Talia and Melissa had put up reflected the light of the kitchen throwing rainbows. Cora joked about it being to girly, saying they should have used something involving star wars or superhero's. Peter had agreed but the women had refused to change them.

 

Now with all the lights of and the curtains draw closed to block out all light everyone was hiding. Peter felt ridicules kneeling behind the counter, silently waiting. A hushed whisper filled the kitchen, a giggle here and there from everyone who was present.

 

Scott and Allison spoke in quite whispers leaning impossibly close to each other from there spot behind the hallway entrance. The last year had involved a lot of bitching from Stiles about there puppy love and Scott's attention divided between the girl and him.

 

It was amusing, Stiles was so use to having Scott to himself that the new addition of a girlfriend brought on a bit of jealousy on Stiles part. Not because he had a girlfriend but because the two always smelled of sex.

 

Peter had always chuckled every time the two were around and Stiles would sneer at them.

 

The rumble of the jeep pulling into the drive had everyone falling silent. The jingle of keys in the door before it was pushed open.

 

Peter heard his mates heart kick start as he took in the quite, the inhale as Stiles tried to scent anyone. His mate shuffled nervously on his feet, Peter almost called it off when he smelled Stiles anxiety. Talia's hand on his back was the only thing that kept him from getting up.

 

The kitchen light flicked on, then of course everyone was forced to jump out.

 

“SUPRISE!”

 

In answer Stiles stumbled back eyes wide he gave a short scream that quickly turned into a high howl. Then he was falling, disappearing from view. Peter quickly rounded the corner of the bar to where Stiles was once standing.

 

A pile of clothes was all that was left.

 

“What?” Scott moved forward looking nervous.

 

“Stiles?” Noah calls out, his head whipping around him in the hopes of finding his son. The pile of clothes moved just as Scott reached for them. The boy jumped back shouted before falling on his ass.

 

“Oh.” Peter breathed out. Then smiled at the large amber eyes that blinked up at him. “He shifted.”

 

Peter kneeled down, holding out his hand. Ghostly white paws moved forward, a warm tongue slid over the palm of his hand.

 

“Aren't you beautiful.” Peter untangled the shirt from around Stiles torso, revealing the powered white fur and tail. No, Peter blinked. Tails. Stiles had five tails, all fluff and swaying back and forth.

 

“That's different.” Talia mutters from behind him. Stiles whines nervously turning his head to see what everyone was looking at. He wobbled on his paws, Peter steadied him.

 

An annoyed huff from the little fox.

 

“You would shift into a fox after being surprised kid.” Noah bitches fondly smiling down at his son. Those amber eyes rolled, in what Peter could only call the fox equivalent of sass.

 

“He's so pretty.” Melissa says, reaching forward to stroke the fur. “And so soft.”

 

Stiles sat, still looking annoyed, his ears twitching. They were much larger then Peter had been anticipating, his range of hearing had to be wide.

 

“Can you shift back?” Laura asks.

 

Stiles gave an awkward shrug looking up at Peter helplessly. Chuckling Peter picked up the boys clothes.

 

“Come on love, lets see if we can get you changed back. We have a birthday party to get too.”

 

Stiles happily trotted behind him up the stairs to his room.

 

“Twenty bucks they have sex before coming down.” Laura shouts out. A collective groan fills the kitchen.

 

“I got thirty on that.” Noah says. Peter stumbles on a step.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

He was a fox! He shifted into a fox! And now? He was following behind Peter, watching as his hips swayed with each step. Stiles stumbles over his own feet when his dad takes Laura up on her bet. More shocking was the one's betting against them.

 

If he was a spiteful person he would skip out on the sex just so his dad would loss money. But this was Peter and Stiles has been dreaming about going at it with him for years. No way in hell was he passing up this chance.

 

When the bedroom door was closed safely behind them Stiles jumped up on the bed. Turning once before dropping down, watching as Peter dumped his clothes on a chair.

 

“Someone is looking comfortable.” Stiles purrs happily and the fingers in his fur. He sniffs at Peter's wrist, then whines when he smells nothing.

 

“Do you want me to go shower to wash off the scent blocker?” Stiles yips happily. With a chuckle Peter slips away, closing himself in the bathroom. While he was gone Stiles closes his eyes, he needed to shift back. He couldn't have sex if he was a bloody fox.

 

He concentrates, picturing himself as a person. His bones shift and pop, he huffs out a breath when he's back to his proper body. He glances down at himself, all pale skin dotted with moles. The heavy scaring from the wolf that killed his mother.

 

When the shower shut off Stiles quickly sat up, suddenly nervous. What if Peter didn't want to have sex with him? He's known Stiles since he was a scrawny ten year old. Peter has witnessed the awkwardness of him growing up.

 

The door opens, Stiles blinks over towards the door and any doubts he has flees. Peter's skin is still slightly wet, a large teal towel wrapped around his hips.

 

“Hello love.” Stiles smiles in answer, unable to find words. He was finally going to get to see Peter naked. Touch his skin, feel his body presses against his with nothing between them.

 

“I can smell your arousal from here.” Peter purrs, moving towards the bed. Stiles eyes track the abs that shift as Peter moves.

 

“I've been jerking off to the thought of you naked and inside me for years. Of course I'm turned on.”

 

Peter smirks. “Oh, I know love. You always smell delicious after.” Peter stops by the bed, hands on his towel. Waiting, teasing. Stiles wanted to see him.

 

Then to towel dropped, and Stiles eyes went wide as he spies the mans cock. Oh god, his imagination was so far off from the real deal. Stiles should have known Peter would be uncut, but not once did he really think of the possibility.

 

He was long, and thick. Impossibly so, Stiles wanted his mouth on him. Wanted to sample what Peter tasted like.

 

“See something you like?”

 

Stiles hums. “God, yes.” He loved everything he saw.

 

“What do you want baby?” Stiles shifted forward, he didn't think, didn't question his own action. He had studied and played with himself for year. He has been dreaming of this since he discovered porn.

 

Stiles sucked Peter down without so much of a thought. His hand going to the base of his cock, he was far to long for Stiles to take him all. Peter jerked, cursed.

 

Stiles loved when he shocked Peter. Hollowing his cheeks he sucked hard, slowly pulling up towards the head, his tongue caressed the slit. Sliding down and under the foreskin. Stroking him.

 

Fingers in his hair pulled him down, he hummed. Peter cursed again shuttering. He bobbed his head back up, his tongue once again playing with the skin there. Slow drawn out strokes. Peter's hips jerked forward, slamming his cock into the back of Stiles throat, he hummed happily. Glad he had such an oral fixation that he didn't gag.

 

Peter pulled out of his mouth and reach, breathing heavily.

 

“Were did you learn how to do that?”

 

Stiles smiled, licking at his swollen lips. “I've been waiting years for this. I have no gag reflex, I've watched enough porn that I've had to replace the software on my computer five times. Plus.” Stiles gets on his knee's leaning forward till his lips were almost touching Peter's.

 

“I've bought enough sex toys that I could open my own shop.”

 

Peter snarls slamming his lips against Stiles. His tongue pushing into the warmth of his mouth. It was no battle who was in lead here, Peter took charge, his fingers tangling in Stiles hair. His free hand sliding down his naked back. He gripped Stiles ass, fingers digging into the pale skin there.

 

Stiles whines into his mouth. He pulls back to take a breath, then Peter's clever lips are at his neck, nipping and licking. The fingers on his ass slides low between the crease, a warm finger brushes over his opening.

 

Stiles moans. Then the fingers were gone, Stiles whimpers again.

 

“Suck.” Peter demands, lightly pressing his digits into Stiles waiting mouth. There's the pop of lube being opened, as the fox works his tongue over the fingers in his mouth. Then there gone, and Peter's mouth is back at his neck.

 

A finger pushes in him without warning, his hard cock rubs against Peter's, the traction feels amazing.

 

Stiles knows he's moaning like a whore, but he doesn't care. The finger inside of him turns into two. Pulling out and stroking before slamming back in.

 

“Ah!” Stiles cries out when Peter finds his prostate.

 

“Get on your hands and knees baby.” Stiles nearly falls of the bed in his haste to obey. Peter chuckles crawling onto the bed behind Stiles. He kneels between Stiles legs, warm hands spread him open.

 

Stiles screams when a warm tongue invalids him. Stiles is suddenly very glad for soundproofing. Peter doesn't stop, he devours Stiles like its his last meal. His tongue stabbing into him, the sounds coming out of Stiles should embarrass him. Then that clever tongue is gone replaced by two thick fingers. Stroking his wall, a rub against his sweet spot.

 

He slams back against those fingers, wanting more. A third finger joins the others stretching him, the burn is nice. Peter's three fingers are thicker then any toy he has, he arches his back.

 

“Please.” He doesn't know what he's begging for, all he knows is he wants more. He's so hard, he wants to come, needs to come but not on Peter's fingers. He wants it hard and rough, like he has dreamed about.

 

A forth finger makes the burn worse, his vision goes dark for a moment. His hand goes to his cock, holding tightly to keep from coming.

 

“Want you in me.” He breaths out.

 

With a rumbled growl Peter's hands are suddenly at his hips holding him steady, then the head of his cock pushes forward, a slow delicious slide before Peter is fully seated in him. His moan catching in his throat. It was so much better then he ever imagined, he was so full of Peter that none of the toys he had did the man justice.

 

Peter pulled out slowly, then a slow slide back in. Stiles lets go of his own cock, reaching his hand back to hold onto Peter's arm.

 

It's a slow process at first, Peter taking his time. Stiles enjoying each delicate thrust of the cock inside of him.

 

But it's not enough, Stiles is floating just out of reach of an orgasm. Peter fucking him was so much different then him fucking himself on a toy. He was rough with himself, he wanted Peter to be the same.

 

“Harder, Peter.” He demands, rocking his hips back, trying to get the man to react like he wanted.

 

A warm palm slides up his spine, between his shoulder blade before stopping at the base of his neck. Stiles suddenly remembered a porn he once saw, a gentle hand around the throat hips slamming. He had came so hard watching it.

 

Peter's fingers digging into the base of his neck to hold Stiles in place was the only warning he got before his mate slams his hips forward. The scream that leaves his lips is loud and breathy.

 

“Fuck!” He slams back as Peter jerks forward. The pounding to his sweet spot makes his eyes water.

 

“Oh, god.” He can't keep up, the only thing keeping him from flying off the bed is the hand on his hip and around his neck.

 

He's so close. Then Peter yanks him backwards, his hands and part of his chest the only thing left on the bed. Peter's feet planted firmly on the floor, Stiles legs held tightly in his strong hands.

 

Stiles is completely confused until Peter pounds into him. He's so deep inside him now Stiles swears he taste him in his throat. His dick slams into his own freaking stomach with the sharp thrust of Peter's hips.

 

He nails his prostate again. “Oh! Right there. Fuck.”

 

Peter's growling, a low hum under the sound of flesh against flesh. The slap of thighs against his ass, the feel of fingers digging into his skin. The burn as Peter wrecks havoc on the bundle of nerves deep inside him.

 

“Please, oh please.” His arms are shaking, his chest heaving with each moan that leaves him. He's going to come untouched he knows it. He had waited so long for Peter, in and out. In and out he moves. Faster, faster.

 

“Come for me baby.” And he does, he screams Peter's name like a prayer. His orgasm tapers off, but Peter's still moving inside of him. That wonderful cock still pounding into his prostate, before he even figures out whats happening he's coming again.

 

“Oh god, Peter!”

 

“Again.” Peter says, “I'm going to make you come one more time before I'm done with you baby.”

 

It's not possible, it's not. Then their moving again he suddenly find himself pressed against the bedroom wall. His legs automatically wrapping around Peter's waist. He's flush red, and Peter, he looks hungry. His mouth devours his lips, sucks on his tongue.

 

His cock buries deep within him again. A wave of “Oh, Oh.” Escapes his lips with each upwards thrust. Each breach inside of him has him crying out.

 

“So, tight.” Peter praises, pounding harder. “Going to come for me again baby? Come so hard on my cock.”

 

Stiles is helpless against the brutal pounding. He loves it, loves everything about it. Peter's voice, the feel of him deep inside. The taste of his lips. Stiles digs his fingers into Peter's back.

 

“Gonna come.” He cries, he's hypersensitive. Each touch to the nerves is like sparks of lightening through his system.

 

A hand wraps around his throat, he doesn't panic, doesn't even think it's possible. He moan's when the fingers grip lightly. Peter's eyes widen, then he smirks. His leg is suddenly on Peter's shoulder, his back pressed harder against the wall.

 

The hand on his neck doesn't let go, but the thumb strokes his skin. The pounding continues, deeper faster. Peter's cock jerks inside of him.

 

“Come!” His body isn't his own, that one word triggers an orgasm so hard he blacks out momentarily. When he blinks his eyes back into focus he's dimly aware of Peter sliding out of him. They're both panting. Sweat covered and flushed red.

 

Peter kisses his neck. “I love you.” Stiles blurts out.

 

“Peter chuckles. “I love you to sweetheart.”

 

His legs feel like jelly. His hips hurt slightly. “I'm going to be walking funny now.” Stiles comments as he's placed on the bed by Peter.

 

“You're not hurt are you? I got a bit to intense there at the end.” Stiles smiled. Leave it to Peter to worry about something like that.

 

“As if, three orgasm's with out even having my dick touched. I'm in heaven. I couldn't accomplish that with any of the toys I have.”

 

Peter growls. “I want to see sometime. You working yourself over with a toy.”

 

“As long as I get to ride you cock after, you can watch me all you want.”

 

Stiles might be a bit of a sex fiend he realizes, but if the look on Peter's face is anything to go by the man wasn't going to complain one bit.

 

“Another time love, I'd let you ride me now but you do have guest for your birthday down stairs.”

 

Stiles suddenly remembers the bets. “Don't shower.” If they were taking bets on his sex life, they were going to have to suffer through the potent scent of Stiles being fucked out.

 

Peter smirks.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter is highly amused. Not only from the looks of his family and friends faces as him and Stiles finally reappear down stairs. Scott gives some wild gag as Stiles gets close to him, his hand fanning in front of his face.

 

“Jesus, you couldn't have showered after?” The boy whines.

 

Stiles gives a barked laugh. “Hell no dude, I've been suffering through it for almost a year now because of you and Allison.”

 

The girl in question blushes a bright pretty shade of pink.

 

Then Stiles is moving towards his dad hand out stretched. “I want a cut of that damn bet pop's.”

 

Noah laughs. “Everyone besides Talia bet you weren't going to do it with everyone here.” Noah counts out three hundred dollars and slaps it in Stiles hand.

 

“Damn, how high did the betting go?” Laura gives a shrug and slaps another two hundred on top of Stiles bundle. Talia does the same to Peter's great amusement.

 

“Derek bet four hundred that you wouldn't. Erica two because she has some misconception that your innocent. Dad bet two as well, but he thought you wouldn't do it out of spite.” Laura says. “The others made smaller bets but the biggest of course was Scott. Five because his best friend wouldn't be rude and miss out on part of his party to have a round in the bed.”

 

Stiles chuckles pocketing the money. “Sorry Scotty, but I've been waiting years. You know that.” Stiles gives his dad a pointed look. “And Sheriff I hope you know any betting and gambling is illegal.”

 

Everyone laughs and the man's shrug. “I wasn't go to pass up easy money kid. Plus think of it as payment for some of that crap you ordered in my name.”

 

Stiles gives a manic laugh.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Stiles is curled around Peter, completely whipped out. He was at a total of six orgasms in one day and now he was so spent he couldn't even move.

 

He need to shower, he knew he did but the thought on standing for that long made his bones hurt. Plus the layer of sweat he was covered in was starting to get gross.

 

“Peter?”

 

The wolf hums, the sound vibrated in Stiles ears as he lays across the warm chest.

 

“Give me a bath, I'm to tired to move.” Peter chuckles, slowly running his fingers through Stiles hair. It felt wonderful, but if he kept that up Stiles would be asleep instead of the warm bath he wanted.

 

“Of course sweetheart.” Stiles hums happily as Peter slides from under him. The water in the bathtub cuts on.

 

“Make that water boiling!” He needed to relax his aching muscles or he would be sore as hell tomorrow. He couldn't exactly go stomping through the woods with Derek to head to the lake tomorrow if he was this sore. Who knew he could still get sore with being a werefox and all.

 

“We aren't trying to cook you love.” Peter sasses as he comes back into the room to get Stiles. The man easily swings Stiles into his arms bridal style.

 

“But Peter I'm so sore.” Stiles pouting makes Peter chuckle as walks into the bathroom.

 

“After your bath I'll give you a massage.”

 

“It can't turn into sex, it would be amazing but I really can't handle anymore tonight.” Stiles moans as he's placed in the hot water.

 

“You're perfect.” He praises, leaning back.

 

“Oh sweetheart, I know I am.” A warm kiss on his forehead. He smiled, Stiles really couldn't be any happier, he was controlling his magic for a full year now. He had a great pack, family. An amazing mate. He couldn't ask for anything else. Wouldn't even know what to ask for if he tried to think on it.

 

A warm soapy rang rolls over his skin. Stiles cracks open his eyes he wasn't aware he closed.

 

“Happy Birthday baby.”

 

Perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this chapter wasn't to disappointing. I'll have the next one up as soon as possible.


	7. chapter 7

 

 

His legs were going to fall off. His hips were sore, and he felt as if Peter was still gripping his ass. Stiles wasn't really going to complain of course, as many orgasms as he was given he wouldn't dare. Now though right this moment trekking though the wood with Derek, he was positive his legs were going to fall off.

 

“How far is this place?” Stiles asks from his spot beside Derek. It was just the two of them today. It had been awhile since they had done anything together with just them. Stiles was all to happy to stomp through the woods if it meant he got to spend some time with Derek.

 

“We have about two more miles to go. You're not already tired are you?” Stiles rolled his eyes at the concern in the older boys voice. Derek worried far to much for a twenty year old.

 

“Nah man, I'm just really freaking sore if you must know.” Stiles smiled brightly at Derek's scowl.

 

“Yea, I don't really need to know that Stiles. No details at least, the smell was bad enough.”

 

“I thought we smelled fantastic.”

 

Derek speed up his long legs eating up the earth beneath his feet. “You would, but the rest of us? I don't really like smelling my Uncles sex hormones.”

 

“I love it.” Derek flipped him off before bouncing over a fallen tree.

 

“Just get moving Stiles, we don't want to waist time. We can do some fishing, maybe swim.”

 

Stiles shut him mouth, quickly catching up with Derek. That plan right there, sounded amazing. Even if we were going to have to carry the fish back. It wasn't to horrible of course, they had been smart enough to bring a cooler. One that had a strap and could be carried over your shoulder.

 

Stiles backpack was filled with cool drinks and lunch for the pair and Derek's held a change of clothes for the both of them if they were needed and towels.

 

Derek had said this place was his favorite spot and since he was so tight lipped about everything Stiles jump on any chance to see what he got up too. Other then Scott and Isaac, Derek was his go to for buddy time. When Derek wasn't at collage of course, and when Stiles really wanted to hang out with him he had to go see the guy at his job at the library.

 

His pack mate always found the best books to read. That's what made him one of Stiles favorite. Not that he had an absolute favorite. Peter and his dad were his top of course, but he loved all his pack. They were his family, his life. Without them, Stile and his dad would have turned to ruins.

 

The Hale Pack saved his life, his fathers life.

 

Stiles would go to the ends of the world for them.

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

They were drowning in sweat by they time they got to the lake, but god was it worth it. Stiles wish he knew about this being back in the preserve years ago. The sound of crashing water as it rolled over a small hill of rock. The water a beautiful shade of dark blue. The color of the water made Stiles wonder if it had been treated.

 

But if they were going to be fishing in it, Stiles wasn't so sure it had been. It was just that clean from being so far from human contamination.

 

“I like to come here when things get to crazy with school and work.” Derek says. “It's peaceful, plus if your lucky enough deer and some smaller animals come to drink and fish.”

 

Stiles smiles as he drops his pack down. “What types of animals have you actually seen before out here?” He dug through the bag pulling out two bottles of cold water before tossing one to Derek. Stiles dropped down onto a rock, kicking off his shoes and socks and placing them in the cool water.

 

He was suddenly very glad he wore khakis today, easily rolled up.

 

“I've seen deer of course. A boar some rabbits, but there's this big bobcat that lurks around here. He eats the fish from what I can tell.”

 

Stiles was suddenly scanning the area, then scenting it. It did smell faintly of felion piss which. Gross, Stiles wrinkled his nose.

 

“There's some foxes too, maybe you can make friends with them.” Derek says with a laugh.

 

“Oh haha, yes because a normal fox would be oh so happy to chill with a weirdo were.”

 

Derek's eyebrows were suddenly frowning. “You're not weird.”

 

“I have five tails Derek, Deaton is going to be coming by soon in a few days to take blood samples.” That freaked him out to no end. He wasn't a fan of needles, and drawing blood involved needles.

 

“He just wants to check your lineage, he's taking your dad's blood as well remember? And your old Alpha is sending your moms records over.”

 

Stiles frowned worrying at his lip. “What if they find something bad?” What if there was a dark kitsune somewhere in his family.

 

“Doubtful, you would have shown signs already. Plus you're Stiles. I don't think you have a bad bone in your body.”

 

Derek dropped down besides Stiles, taking a long pull of his water. He too kicked of his shoes and socks and enjoyed the water.

 

“Even if there was something dark in your family at some point wouldn't change anything. One we all love you and your dad. You're pack. Two you are Peter's mate and lets face it he'd kill us all if anyone spoke poorly of you or tried to kick you out of the pack. Which by the way would never happen. You spent the better part of six's years trying to control that magic so you wouldn't hurt any of us. That doesn't scream evil.”

 

A small smile graced Stiles face. “I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I hurt anyone again.”

 

Screams of the past echoed in his mind. Scott screaming for help, Derek frantically pulling his sisters away from Stiles as he lost control. He shuddered. That had been one of the worst days of his life.

 

“No one even got hurt that bad that day, it was scary yes, but only because we were kids. You were having a panic attack so bad no one could help, that was the most frightening thing of all.”

 

“I set the yard on fire, Scott got burned. Laura got burned, they were both lucky to not have scars.”

 

Derek bumped shoulders with Stiles. “We heal, all of us. Shit happens man, Laura mauled me once during a full moon. I never held that against her.”

 

“Fine I guess I see where your coming from.”

 

Derek gave a smile, and it was beautiful. Most days the guy walked around with resting bitch face.

 

“Now, lets fish and swim. It's hot as hell out here.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

It was getting dark out, and any other time Peter wouldn't be worried. If everyone was home that was suppose to be home, but two of their kids weren't here.

 

And of fucking course his mate had to be one of them. They had called their cells and got no answer. Which okay wasn't that bad maybe they got caught up in enjoying themselves. That had been hours ago though.

 

“How far into the preserve where they going?” Noah asks, the man was scanning the yard from the window. Watching for any sign of Stiles and Derek walking out from the tree's.

 

“The lake is about ten miles in, with how fast Derek normally walks it should have taken them about two hours to get out there.”

 

Noah ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe Stiles slowed them down some? You know how he gets distracted. Anything could have caught the kids attention.”

 

“Then why aren't they answering their phones?” Laura asks looking towards her mom, as if the woman had the answers she needed.

 

“I don't know honey, we'll give them thirty more minutes and if they don't show up will go looking for them.”

 

Those thirty minutes ending up being useless, because no longer then five minutes of Talia saying that did Cora scream.

 

“Mom! Mom!” The front door flow open with a bang, Cora came storming in, dragging a bloody mess beside her.

 

“Derek!” Talia and James ran forward, Peter close behind as the parents took the weight of Derek off Cora's shoulder. The boy was wheezing, blood dripping into his eyes, and arrow protruding out of his back.

 

“Wolfsbane.” Peter snapped smelling the sickly rotting odor coming off his nephew.

 

“Where's Stiles!?” Noah was screaming. “Where's Stiles!”

 

“Only Derek came through the trees!” Cora cries out. Peter is running before she even finishes speaking. He could feel Laura and his back, he could hear the Sheriff running to catch up. The sound of other feet falling in line behind them.

 

Peter didn't stop, following the scent of Derek's blood. The smell of his fear. He kept his foot falls quite, the others easily following suit. Even the Sheriff had training in keeping his movements silent.

 

They were three miles in when they found the kids packs. Peter stopped eyes scanning his surroundings. His ears listening for any sounds. He could smell Stiles and Derek but there was an assortment of unknown scents of others. Five somebodies.

 

The ground was heavily disturbed, the thick smell of silver. Stiles must have used his magic at some point.

 

“I got blood, it's not Derek's or Stiles.” Laura says leaning over the pool of it by a tree.

 

“I have some over here too, don't know who's.” Noah says as he kneels down. A flashlight he pulled from his utility belt shinning down at it. The man was still in freaking uniform. Peter moves towards him.

 

He snarls.

 

“Oh god, it's Stiles isn't it?”

 

“Yes, Laura call Chris Argent and Allison. Sheriff it's best you get some men out here, this is now an active crime scene.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

After spending four hours out in the woods watching as the cops collected evidence Peter spent another five hunting the woods for his mate. He had hoped, oh god had he hoped that Stiles had gotten away.

 

All of those thoughts dashed from his mind when he found himself at the road were Stiles scent suddenly vanished. Which only meant he was put into a car and taken. There was no camera's out here to check, the only thing that could be done was someone taking molds of the tire tracks in the dirt.

 

When he had finally went back to the house Peter was almost in a blind rage. Someone had attacked his pack. Hurt his nephew and taken his mate. Peter had killed others for less, he would do it again once he got his hands on them.

 

Peter found Cora sitting on the couch in the living room. Her clothes blood stained with Derek's blood, she was chewing on her nails.

 

“Cora?”

 

The girl blinked up, eyes wide. “Deaton got the arrow out, treated him for the wolfsbane poisoning. He said he'd be okay in a day or so.”

 

Peter sat down beside her. “That's good, want to tell me what's bothering you?”

 

“Um, it's just. No one has ever attacked like that. Any disputes normally gets handled by mom and you. Why would anyone attack Derek and Stiles? Why would anyone take Stiles?”

 

Peter sighed. “They're are still people out in this world who don't like the presents of supernatural beings. Just because we are excepted by the government and most of society doesn't mean there isn't some crazy asshole out there looking to take us out.”

 

“I know that! But Stiles and Derek never hurt anyone. They almost killed my brother Uncle Peter.”

 

“We can't work with logic here Cora. These people don't need a reason other then they wanted too. I will find them, Noah will find them. We will take care of everything, and I will get Stiles back.”

 

“How are you so calm?” She asked voice small. And that hurt Peter, Cora wasn't a quite teen she was loud, and happy. Someone had taken that way from her. Someone was going to die for that alone.

 

“Oh I'm not calm, I'm pissed to hell, but I can't let my rage cloud my judgment. I need a level head to bring my mate home.”

 

There was no other option.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

“I'm sorry.” Derek says as soon as Peter walks into his room to check on him. “I'm so damn sorry.”

 

Peter takes a seat in the chair next to Derek's bed, he pats the kid on the chest once.

 

“You have nothing to be sorry about, I know you did everything you could to help Stiles.” Derek was as loyal as Stiles. He'd lose his own life trying to protect his pack, Peter could never fault him for being unable to save his mate.

 

“We didn't smell them until I was already being tagged by a taser. Stiles let his magic loss as soon as I dropped. But someone slammed his head into a tree, and I was trying to get up shake off the current.” Derek shuddered.

 

“Once I was finally up someone was already dragging Stiles away. Another man was down because Stiles magic barreled into his chest. So someone was dragging him away. I went to go after them but the others started attacking me. I clawed one, got knocked in the head for my trouble and another one shot me in the back.”

 

Derek's green eyes glanced at Peter. “I couldn't get back up, I was bleeding and it felt like I couldn't breath but I couldn't get back up. They didn't even bother with me once I was down, they took Stiles and left.”

 

Peter thought hard on this frowning. Once Derek was no longer a threat they left him, which meant the ultimate goal was Stiles.

 

“Who all knew you and Stiles were going out to the lake today?”

 

“Just the pack. Well Stiles and I talked about it some when he came and saw me at work the other day, but I don't think anyone was really paying to close attention to us. I wasn't really looking out for it though, it's not the first time I've made plans while at work.”

 

“No, that's fine. I'm not saying you did anything wrong, just trying to get the facts. Someone had to have known it was just going to be the two of you out there. I'll go to the library tomorrow with Noah and pull the video feeds, well run some facial recognition on everyone who was there that day. Maybe will get lucky and catch a face.”

 

Derek licked his lips. “What do you think they wanted with Stiles?”

 

Peter shook his head. “I don't know, could be a number of reasons. Whatever it is, I can only hope they need him alive for it.”

 

Why take him if they were just going to kill him. Then again, they could just be doing this for fun. Stiles was a very powerful being after all, if forced he could do a number of things.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

“This the kid?” A gruff voice asks startling Stiles out of his pain filled haze. He tensed when he felt his hand chained behind his back, his legs attached to the legs of a chair. There was something over his eyes blocking his vision.

 

But it was the tightness around his neck that worried him the most.

 

“Yes, doesn't look like much. I don't see what help this little bastard is going to be.”

 

“If the information given to us was correct this little shit can do some amazing things.” Another voice answers, voice deeper then the last. Like he had been smoking twelve packs of cigarettes a day. Stiles couldn't recognize the voice, or the scents.

 

He suddenly smelled Derek's blood. His head shot up, oh god. What happened to Derek? He had been knocked out, Derek had been lying on the ground but he hadn't been bleeding.

 

“You awake freak?” A hand yanked his head back by his hair. He hissed but didn't answer.

 

“Good, I didn't want to wait around for you to finish your nap.” Again the man pulled at his hair.

 

“Now here's some ground rules. One don't try anything fucking stupid. You are wearing a collar, one made just for you. It's got all kinds of special runes on it that will make you hurt like you have never had before if you try to use that magic of yours without permission.”

 

A hand dug into the skin around his cheeks. “Two, don't speak unless spoken too. We aren't hear to listen to you piss and moan. We have a little job to get done, then will be handing you over to someone much more terrifying then us.” A sudden loud chuckled made Stiles flinch.

 

“I'm not doing anything for you.”

 

“Tsk, already can't follow the rules.” Stiles breath caught in his throat with a punch landed on his ribs.

 

“Keep your mouth shut kid. Now where was I? Oh yea, three that collar also have runes on it that will keep you from healing like you are suppose to, so I'd keep that in mind before you get to mouthy.”

 

Stiles coughed, then drew in a deep breath. Something edged at his memory at the voice that suddenly laughed. He hadn't heard that person speak yet, but that laugh. He was sure he knew that laugh.

 

“How's it going kid.” The laughing voice finally says. Stiles tenses. “Long time no see Stiles.”

 

No way.

 

Stiles keeps his mouth shut.

 

“You're going to pay for what you did to me.” A chuckle sounded. “My new pack here, they don't much like foxes. You should have seen their faces when I told them a fox was the reason I was kicked out of my last pack.”

 

Fear, cold uncontrollable fear choked him.

 

The blind fold was suddenly ripped of his face. Lucas smiled down at him, all teeth. Eyes shining a bright blue. Like Peter's but not, the person Peter had killed had been an accident. These eyes... Stiles knew Lucas didn't come by them by accident.

 

“I didn't get you kicked out of the pack.” Stiles hissed.

 

“Bullshit! You and your father come to town and suddenly I'm being kicked out of the Hale pack and forced to leave Beacon Hills. All because I shared my concerns about allowing a fucking fox into the pack.”

 

“I'm not a kitsune.” He wasn't. Deaton had said so, his fur was white. He wasn't a kitsune.

 

“Nah, maybe not, but.” Lucas smiles again eyes manic. “You have magic, crazy strong magic if I remember correctly. Plus I've been having you followed for some time now. I've been told things, my pack you see are very good at what they do. They've even peaked in on a couple of your training lessons.”

 

“Please.” Stiles says. “Please, I just want to go home.”

 

“This is your new home now, well until those hunters come to get you that is.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Two days. Two fucking days and not a sign on Stiles. They didn't even have any clues as to where he was, why he was taken. Peter's wolf was crawling at the edges of his mind. Panicked, furious. His mate was fucking gone and there was nothing.

 

“I want all the footage from every place Stiles has been in the last two weeks. School, Deaton's the library everything.” Noah snapped into his phone.

 

“I'm sorry I don't think I stuttered Officer, I don't care how many hours it takes for you to hit all those places. You're going to add the grocery store to that and the dinner on 5th as well.”

 

“Apologize later when I have the damn footage!” Noah tossed his phone on the table his breath heaving. Talia quickly stood, guiding the man into a chair.

 

“I need you to calm a bit for me. Working yourself up isn't going to help, I can't have you having a heart attack. Stiles will have my head.”

 

Peter gave a small smile, because it was true. If Noah worked himself up so much that he had a heart attack Stiles would ruin them all. The mans smile fell, he couldn't really get on to anyone if he wasn't here now could he.

 

“This is taking to long. The only hits we had on the DNA was for other crimes spread out to so many different states that it doesn't help us any. It doesn't put a name or face to the blood samples, it just tells us about the past crimes someone has got away with.”

 

Talia dropped a glass of ice water in front of the man.

 

“How about you tell us about the other cases, maybe it will give us some hints about who has him?”

 

“Finger prints got a hit from a federal bank robbery, three dead, ten million dollars gone. Footage didn't show any faces, just six people all masked and large builds. So men, they were fast and efficient. The only odd thing was how they got into the vault. They didn't use the codes, and the safe was protected against magic. It's like they just ripped it off with their bare hands. The camera in there were blocked so we couldn't see how they did it.”

 

Noah rubs his forehead. “We got a blood sample hit for a robbery in phoenix. Another federal building but this time they downloaded everything off the computer hard drives. Two dead guards, slit their throats.”

 

Peter closed his eyes for a moment, it was apparent these people had no problem killing. That just begged the question what they needed from Stiles.

 

“Wait, you said six? In both cases it was six men?”

 

“Yes, all the way until three months ago. The last hit we got was from, you guessed it a federal building. There was only five men though, that heist didn't go as planned though from what I read. I haven't seen the footage yet, it should be here in a day or two.”

 

“How did it go wrong?”

 

“From the report one of the guards survived. He was a low level Druid so he used some magic to seal off the bleeding. He told the cops that the men were agitated, screaming about not being able to pull this off without their mage.” Noah sighed. “I don't really know what that is to be honest, it gets kind of hard to keep up with all the types of supernatural in this world.”

 

Peter cursed. “A mage is a magic user, sort of like Stiles but lower level. Now they can bend things to their will to an extent. Like say, rip a two tone bank vault door off it's hinges.”

 

“That door had sigils on it to keep magic from effecting it.”

 

Peter shook his head. “That doesn't matter to a mage, those runes are probably to block magic from behind thrown at it. It will do nothing from someone simply wishing the door to be ripped off.”

 

“Okay, so what the hell happened to their mage then?”

 

“Who knows, maybe he died or decided he didn't want to continue stealing and killing. Though that's doubtful, he helped them in all the other cases, so the only thing I can think of is he's dead.”

 

“We need that footage, all of it. I want to watch them.”

 

Noah nodded. “Yes of course, maybe some fresh eyes will help.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Fresh eyes did help it seemed. Another two days later and Peter was more fearful for his mate's life. How the hell was he suppose to get to them if they moved around so much? Twelve heist in two months, six different states.

 

“Noah I want you to look at something.” Peter calls out from the library. The wolf rubbed at his eyes. He had spent the last two days staring at a computer screen, his head was killing him.

 

“Did you find something?”

 

“Unfortunately yes.” Noah tensed beside him. “I have watched and then watched these jobs so many times I have every step they take memorized.”

 

Peter hits play on the first job. “Now the bank job seems more like a practice run if you ask me. It too chaotic, the men are scrambling to get the workers and few customers in line. There is no game plan. Now watch the woman in the white suit, she's going to run in a second right past the guy closest to the door.”

 

The woman looks around frantically before running towards the door. The only one watching her is the shortest man in the group. She sails right past him. There's a muzzle flash, once twice. The girl falls.

 

“Okay, she got shot twice in the back. I don't see your point.”

 

“That's because your watching the one with the gun.” Peter points to the short man. “He has no gun, no weapon at all from what I can see. He watches that girl try to escape and doesn't even lift a finger to stop her.”

 

Noah frowns. “Why not though?”

 

Peter skips over to a different video. “This is the second one, it flows better. They move as one except.” Once again Peter points to the short man. “He lingers, tries to drop back. Each time someone bumps into him, shoves him forward. It's subtle I only saw it because I was watching him. Again he has no weapon.”

 

“Why would anyone go into something like this without a weapon?”

 

“See, that's the right question. Try not to stress and will figure this out. Well I figured it out already but it will be easier to understand after I explain.”

 

Peter rolls his head, trying to get the kink out of his neck. “One year ago all computer software and firewalls were equipped with magic. There was that big story about that teen who came into his magic and could basically hack a computer with his mind. The government hired him to build firewalls and other crap to keep someone from using magic to get in.”

 

“I remember that story, the computers at the station has it. Kids making a killing with his magic.”

 

“I'm sure he is. They did a follow up story were they allowed several people try to hack his systems. The best hackers in the world couldn't get past them. Now best way to get past a magic firewall?”

 

“A mage who's only limit is his mind.” Noah finishes.

 

“Now, I'm guessing. No I'm positive after watching their last bust that the short man is your mage. At first I thought, you don't need a gun if you have that kind of magic. Until I watched these to guards being taken down. Then man practically jumps out of his skin when they slit their throats.”

 

Peter tilts his head towards the video. “He turns here in a moment, like he wants to run. But that big guy over there facing the camera mouths something. I can't make out the word because this shit doesn't zoom worth a damn, but the mage. He's about to jump violently like he's been hit with a taser.”

 

Noah watches as the man violently shudders. “The first time I watched this I never caught that. Honesty I wasn't even paying much attention to him. He just kinda fades into the background.”

 

“New eyes and all that.” Peter says. “Okay, once everyone turns to head up the mage pulls at his collar of his shirt.”

 

Peter hits pause as soon as the mans neck is visible. He zooms in as best as he can without distorting the image to much.

 

“What the hell is that?”

 

“It's a collar, made of some type of metal I think, but its the carvings in it that's most concerning.”

 

“Is that..” Noah's eyes go wide. “Jesus that kids not there of his own free will.”

 

“No, I can only make out one rune. And its a seal, almost like the control rune Stiles had on his back. This though it blocks all his magic from being used unless the write phrase is used. I'm going to assume most are like that. We need to send this still shot to someone so they can clean it up so we can send it to Deaton. He'll know what each rune is.”

 

“Peter.” The wolf closes his eyes, already knowing what the man was going to say. He feared it, he knew it like he knew his mate wasn't beside him.

 

“These people are going to use my son to rob and murder people.”

 

“That's most likely the case yes.” Peter whispers.

 

“We have no idea what happened to that Mage Peter!”

 

“Look up missing persons. Someone had to report him missing. We can find out who he is, maybe he was found.”

 

“But Stiles.” Noah starts.

 

“I KNOW!” Peter screams. “God I know Noah, but until they make their first move we'll have no idea where they are or what they are doing. Stiles is brilliant, he'll find a way to let us know what's going on as soon as he can if he can. Control runes don't work well on him, not even his own magic could hold it back. Nothing the put on him will last long enough before it fade. They may think they know the extent of Stiles magic but not even we know what all he can do.”

 

Noah takes a steady breath. He drops a hand on Peter's shoulder. “I'm sorry Peter, you're right. I know you're right. God, okay. Lets find that kid and hope to god he's alive and can tell us something.”

 

Peter sighed dropping his head to his hands. “I'm sorry I shouted.”

 

“Nah kid, it's fine. We're all stressed. Shit I can't say anything about you shouting, I've been a drill Sargent to my deputies.”

 

“I need him.” Peter whispers.

 

“Me too Peter. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is getting intense! Hope you enjoy!


	8. chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got away with me, not in a bad sense I suppose. I guess it depends on how well you like the chapter. I know my story consist more on dialogue then anything but that's my favorite part.

 

 

It was a week later when Noah came rushing into the house. Face flushed red a large folder in his hand. He found Talia and Peter in the library, slowly looking through all the videos from all the places Stiles had been in the last two weeks before he disappeared.

 

Peter tried not to panic, oh he wanted to. He had snapped and screamed and broken things when he got to worked up. Talia though always came rushing in, calming him. Reminding him why he needed to keep his head.

 

“I found the mage.” Noah yells as soon as he hits the library door.

 

Peter whips around so fast the chair almost buckles under his weight. Noah slams the folder down on the table.

 

“Grant Williams, age twenty four. Went missing from his apartment two towns over four months ago. Now he's accounted for during the first two months. We have him on video during the heist, but after that I don't know where he went.”

 

Noah took a breath to calm himself. “He was found one week ago by some hikers, he's alive Peter.”

 

Peter's shoulders sag. That was the best fucking news they had gotten so far.

 

“Where is he?”

 

“Trent Moore hospital one hour out. I'm headed there now, I figured you wanted to go with me.”

 

“Yes, of course I want to go.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

This was no hospital Peter had ever seen before. The security alone screamed top secret. Both Peter and Noah were finger printed before entering the first set of sliding doors. Noah's gun and taser was taken and put into a lock box before they were allowed through the next set. All keys and any other sharp objects were taken on the next set.

 

Peter was waiting for them to demand their shoes next.

 

Once they were finally past the security they were escorted into a small office and was told to wait. Peter paced just to give himself something to do. He didn't understand why all this security was needed for a hospital.

 

“What's going on with this place, doesn't this seem a bit odd to you?”

 

Noah scans the room around them. The name plate on the desk read Dr. Matthews. “The kids parents are government. Dad's CIA from what I read in his file, his mother was a high profile judge until she decided she wanted to write books instead.”

 

“So high priority patient, in a high class hospital. I thought we were walking into a prison to be honest.” Noah was in uniform and they still had taken his gun. Which mean's the likely hood they were going to get to question Grant was slim to known.

 

The door opens and a very young doctor walks in. His face is set in a hard line, eyes impassive. The type of doctor Peter expected to see in a place like this.

 

“Gentlemen, I've been informed you are here to see Grant Williams but I'm sorry to inform you that I can't really allow that.”

 

Peter tensed biting his tongue to keep from speaking. He'd have to let Noah handle this one or they would be going to jail instead of seeing the mage.

 

“I just need to speak to him for a moment Doctor. Just about what happened to him in the last few months.” Noah's voice was calm and collected. He was using that cop voice, the voice of reason. That there was the reason Peter kept his mouth shut.

 

“He won't have anything to say sir, and as far as I was aware this case being handled by the FBI. Not some Sheriff's office.”

 

Noah's back straightened. “The FBI is allowing us to work along side them, I'm sure if you give the case holder in charge a call he will inform you of this.”

 

“It would make no difference. Grant will have nothing to say.” The doctor was glaring now, as if the simple question to see a patient was annoying him.

 

“Please.” Noah's voice breaks, the doctor frowns. “My son, the men who too Mr. Williams have my son. I just need to talk to him for a moment.”

 

The mans whole demeanor changes then. “Sheriff I wish I could help I really do, but when I say Grant has nothing to say it's not because he's being stubborn. He literally will not speak. It's not in his file because of possible leaks but Grant is in the mental ward.”

 

Noah flinches. Peter tries and fails to hold in his snarl. “Why the mental ward?” Peter asks voice tight.

 

“It's probably best if I show you, but I will tell you now it is unlikely he will speak anything useful.” The doctor leads them out of the room and down towards an elevator. Once inside he slides a key into the button panel and hit the level above the basement.

 

“We keep mentally unstable patients on basement levels. Just in case any of them decide they want to take a dive out of a window. You can't jump if there is no windows. All employees who are allowed access to this level has a key. All must be finger printed before entering and after leaving.”

 

The doors open, the doctor motions for them to follow. “The doors we are about to walk through are going to scan each of us as we go through. Height, weight and facial scan. That way on exit no one extra is trying to slip through with us.”

 

“Who the hell are you keeping down here that, that level of security is needed?” Peter asked suddenly wondering if they weren't actually in a prison.

 

“You'd be surprised actually. We have normal human's who have suffered a mental break down here. They can get violent at times, but we also have supernatural beings down here as you are aware. A mage who has suffered a mental break at the magnitude Grant has can not be trusted without the support of family and medical attention.”

 

“Are you saying this kids family isn't helping him?” Noah asked sounding sick at the idea.

 

Grant sneers. He steps through the doors first, the reader scanning his finger print before flashing green. The walls hum as it takes his measurements and snaps a picture. It repeats the process with Peter and Noah.

 

“That's definitely what I'm saying. The most his family has done was dump him in this place, they haven't came to visit and they only know his condition because I call and update them.”

 

“That's their son.”

 

“Not everyone values family Sheriff.” They pause outside a door, the hallways are deathly silent. Peter's eyes fall to the glass walls that in case several nurse's and computers. Live video feeds from each room on the screens. The doors to the room has a key lock and finger print access. The doctor follows Peter's line of sight.

 

“Since all the rooms are sound proofed they have to monitor by camera.”

 

“And the locked room?”

 

“We have a weretiger and a wrath here, on the off chance they go on a rampage that room is safe. The glass is shatter proof, not even a speeding car is going to get through it. Magic won't work either not even Grants.”

 

“How do you figure? I thought a mage's magic worked by his will.”

 

“It's been reinforced by a spark.”

 

Peter tenses at that. The doctors eyes narrow. “I would like for you to tell me about this case fully once you see Grant. I think I might be of some help in the upcoming days.”

 

“Why the hell do you think that?” Peter snaps. What the hell did this bastard think he knew.

 

“I'm a mental psychic Mr. Hale.” He doesn't elaborate farther.

 

Dr. Matthews pushes open the door. All at once the smell of urine and fear assault Peter's senses. Slowly they make their way inside, Peter's eyes go wide at what he see's. This mage looked nothing like the photo in his file.

 

His gray eyes were dull and lifeless. His blonde hair ripped out in some spots, faces littered with healing buries and cuts. He was terribly under weight.

 

“Oh god.” Noah moan's. The man curled up in the corner flinches at the sound.

 

“I'll be good. I'll be good.” He whispers, voice horse like he had been screaming. His lips were chewed raw and bloodied.

 

“That's all he says. Never anything different. He has long states of catatonic behavior some days. Won't move, only blinks and breaths at slow intervals. Then he has bad days, screaming, pulling out his hair, clawing at his arms.”

 

The man's tanned skin was shredded. It looked more along the lines like a wolf had gotten a hold of him then blunt human nails.

 

Grant rocks forward hands suddenly covering his face. “I'll be good.”

 

“What was his condition when he was brought in?” Peter heard himself ask. His voice sounding distant even to his own ears.

 

“Burn's around the neck, the skin is so badly chard and infected we had to remove several layers of flesh. I haven't quite figured out what was used yet to inflicted such damage.”

 

“A metal collar, it had several runes carved into it. Dr. Alan Deaton translated them for us. One a control rune that kept his magic form being used unless you knew the right phrase. One for electric shock for control over the wearer. A sleep rune, undoubtedly to knock him out when they saw fit.”

 

“How do you know this?”

 

“I went through every heist he was forced to be apart of. In one of the video's he pulls on his shirt collar. You could see it. We took a still shot of it and had it analyzed.”

 

“Wait what heist? I was under the assumption he was simply tortured for a twisted logic.”

 

“The first two months into his kidnapping he was held hostage by five men. They used his magic to break into several government buildings.”

 

“I heard about those on the news but I wasn't aware Grant was involved. You have to understand the injuries he came in with are only two months old. I knew he was taken that much was told to me by his parents. The FBI gave me little information about his case, are you saying you are here for a totally different case?”

 

“What case did you think we came here for?” Noah asked suddenly confused.

 

“Two months ago Mr and Mrs. Williams were contacted by a group of hunters that called themselves God's servants. When they spoke to the Williams they told them they would purify their son and they could have him back once he was no longer a follower of Satan.”

 

“Jesus no, that hasn't happened with my son. We haven't gotten any calls. We have DNA at the scene where my son was taken, finger prints off their hiking gear. That lead us to the heist where we learned of Grant. Two months in to the jobs he was no longer there. What is the likely hood that two different groups got to him in that span of time?”

 

Grant suddenly screams. An ear cutting shout so loud Peter has to cover his ears and rush out of the room. There was the slam of flesh meeting the soft walls, the scent of fresh blood.

 

“Step out Sheriff please.” The two quickly leave the room. The door seals shut with a click as the locks fall in place.

 

“Sedate him.” Dr. Matthews says talking into a radio he pulls form his pocket. The glass window that looks into the room suddenly fogs over.

 

“What the hell?”

 

“We can't get close enough to him to give him a sedative by injection. The first few times we tried a lot of people got hurt.”

 

“So you gas him?” Peter asked, suddenly not wanting to be in this building.

 

“It's more effective then allowing my nurses and doctors get hurt in the process. It's also not as stressful on Grant or anyone else we use it on.”

 

The radio crackles. “He's asleep Dr. Matthews, heart rate holding steady.”

 

“Thank you. Please inform me of any changes.”

 

The doctor looks back towards Peter. “Maybe it's best we go to my office, we apparently have several things to talk about. Starting with the fact I wasn't aware my patient was held by two different groups of people.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Upon entering the doctors office he heads straight to a filing cabinet and pressed in a code pulling out a large folder. Grant's names was posted on the front in big black bold letters.

 

Seeing as this was undoubtedly going to take a while Peter and Noah sat. The tension in the air was so thick Peter was sure he could cut it. He hadn't been expecting this when he had arrived. He had been so certain they would be leaving with some type of helpful information that he was dishearten to find out that wasn't the case.

 

That man down stairs would be no help to Stiles.

 

“Now first I would like to know the name of the FBI agent you spoke with.” Dr. Matthews says as he takes a seat behind his desk. He pulls out a fresh pad of paper and pen.

 

“Special Agent Conner Marks.” The doctor quickly writes down the name. Then the number he could contact him at after he was done speaking to them.

 

“The Agent for the hunter case is Mason Turner. All they would disclose with me was that in the last four years several number's of people have been reported missing. At some point the families get a call all from the same group. God's servants were they inform them they could have their loved one back after they are purified.” The doctor in turn gives Noah the contact information.

 

“Now I hope you don't get that call. As much as it pains me to say this, I hope Grant just had a rather bad stroke of luck and happened upon two very twist groups of people.”

 

“There really was no injuries from four months ago on his body?” Peter asks trying to piece together the facts.

 

“The oldest injury is the burns around his neck. Now it is possible they had been there for months but the damage was so extensive that its hard to tell. He had some old bruising but it was so faded I hadn't really thought about it. If he was wearing a collar that caused that kind of damage there really is no need for manual torture.”

 

Noah was looking a bit green. “On the off chance these two groups are working together, what could we possibly expect of Stiles condition?”

 

“Stiles is your son?”

 

“Yes, and Peter's mate. He's.” Noah paused seeming unable to continue.

 

“He's been missing for eleven days. We have been watching for anymore attacks of federal buildings but nothing. The robberies started two days after Grant was taken. I don't understand why there hasn't been any sign of them since they have taken Stiles.”

 

“May I ask about his powers? I'm assuming he has some. If Grant was taken for his because he is such a high level mage the only logical outcome is your son is something.”

 

“He's a werefox.” Noah whispers.

 

The doctor frowns. “A fox does have magic but nothing close to the level of a mage. What else?”

 

Peter sighed. There really was no avoiding this. “He's also a spark.”

 

The doctors eyes grow impossibly wide. “A werefox who is also a spark? How powerful is this kid?”

 

“That has been undetermined. All I can tell you is he's a bottomless pit of magic. He turned eighteen not long ago, so when he finally shifted he had five tails and his fur is white.”

 

If at all possible the doctor looked more stunned. “Five tales? Have you had him tested? There is something much more going on here then a spark and a werefox. Sheriff who in the family was a fox?”

 

Noah grimaced. “My wife. She was flawed though, she couldn't shift and her magic was low level. Her family has only ever had five born foxes.”

 

“No kitsune's?”

 

“No, we check. We went back generations.”

 

The doctor frowned. “What about yourself?”

 

“Doctor Deaton was going to check once he realized Stiles had so many tails and his coloring was white but then he was taken and we hadn't gotten around to it.”

 

The doctor quickly moves to the corner of his office and rummages around before rushing back with a syringe.

 

“Please roll up your sleeve.”

 

Noah sneers. “What the hell for? My son is missing, I don't give two shit's what his DNA is made of. I want him back and this doesn't help him any.”

 

“Noah, may I call you Noah?” The Sheriff nods with a heavy sigh. “This could very well be important. Your son is in the hands of god knows who, a fox with that magnitude of power where it requires him to have five tails is a very special person. If I have all the facts about his DNA makeup I could possibly find him.”

 

“How?” Peter shouts. The doctor jumps as if he had forgotten he was there.

 

“I told you I'm a mental psychic. I can crawl into the minds of magic users but only if I know the workings of their genetic makeup. Each person who uses magic is wired different, how their brain process things. The color's they see. If I can't find each strain of DNA that makes up their magic I can't get into their minds.”

 

Dr. Matthews sighs. “Why do you think I do what I do. I'm a doctor in a mental ward, I learn these peoples DNA. I crawl into their minds and fix the broken tethers that sent them here in the first place. I have a one hundred percent success rate, everyone who comes through my doors walks out more stable then when they came in.”

 

“How does that help find Stiles?” Peter snarls, not following the mans logic.

 

“I can track the minds of those I connect with. Long range doesn't matter, if I know that person literally from the inside I can find them.”

 

“Do you need contact with that person?” Noah asks sounding doubtful.

 

“No, just need to see their DNA. Map it out in my mind then weed through millions of people until I find the right one.”

 

“We don't have Stiles DNA samples, we never got around to taking it.” Noah says voice breaking.

 

“Nothing at all? No hair, teeth from childhood. Something at the crime seen perhaps?”

 

Noah frowns. “I have some baby teeth that my wife kept. Hair in his brush and there was blood.” Noah's voice trails off.

“How much blood?”

 

“Enough for about five samples but it's probably not viable anymore. It's been days since we collected it.”

 

“It doesn't have to be fresh sir.” The doctor says with a small smile.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

They returned home with a doctor in tow. Peter would be amused if the situation wasn't so dire. The man had refused to stay behind. Even going so far as to take off several weeks from work to join them. They had protested of course, not wanting to take the man away from his patients.

 

“I told you, I can connect with them from long distances.” He had said as Peter followed into his home to pack a few bags. Noah had stayed behind in his cruiser to run a background check on the man.

 

Now here they were. Walking into the living room where several pack mates were sitting around looking worried. Then suspicious of the new addition in the house.

 

“Who's that Peter?” Talia asks standing to attention as soon as they walked in. She stepped in front of her kids, eyes narrowed.

 

“This is Dr. Sam Matthews. He's the Mage's doctor, he says he can help find Stiles.”

 

Derek's eyes narrowed. “How can a doctor help?”

 

Sam frowned at the tone of voice. “You are under a lot of stress.”

 

Derek shoulders go ridged. Noah intervenes when he sees Talia get ready to speak.

 

“I ran a background check on him. He's clean. Doesn't even have a parking ticket.”

 

“Answer his question.” Cora snaps.

 

“I can find him with his DNA.” When everyone looked confused the doctor explained. “I'm a mental psychic.” The man stressed his title, like he was getting fed up with having to classify himself for others.

 

Alan who had been standing back by the kitchen door suddenly stepped forward. “What level?”

 

Sam shrugs. “The last time I was checked I was level thirty five. That has been a few years though. I'm classification indigo.”

 

Alan froze. “Indigo, you have government clearance?”

 

Peter frowned. He understood the man was high level by his rating, but he wasn't following when it came to the color classification. He hadn't even been aware it was such a thing. Then again he didn't much care to learn the inner workings of the government.

 

“Yes, I have worked closely with the CIA, NSA , Interpol and the CDC. I hit indigo status last year.”

 

Alan nodded. “Clearance code?”

 

The doctors eyes narrowed. “I am in no way shape or form going to hand over my clearance code to an unknown person.”

 

“Understandable. Alan Deaton. Classification teal, level forty five Druid. Clearance code, three five two wolf-night sigma six twelve fifteen.” The room was in a stunned silence. Sam smiled slowly.

 

“You know, you could have just told me your color classification Sir.” The Doctor was standing at attention. Eyes straight head, there was a glimmer of respect on the doctors face.

 

“Mmm, but we needed to have solid grounds for trust. I will also inform your superiors that you need to be bumped up a color. I've met a few people in my time who are quick to spit out their code without even thinking about who they are giving it too.”

 

“I'm no fool sir. I worked hard to get where I am, I do not plan on ruining my career because I got a big head.”

 

“Now Clearance code?” Deaton repeated, glossing over the man statement like he hadn't even made it.

 

“Delta nine three six foxtrot twenty twenty-four two.”

 

“Ah, so you are with Jenkins then?” Alan frowns at this looking the doctor over slowly.

 

“Yes Sir, I'm not suppose to speak poorly of my handler but if I must be frank the man is an idiot.”

 

Deaton chuckled. “Yes, that he is. Have you thought about filing for a switch?”

 

Peter's eyes narrowed. It would seem they were getting a bit off subject, they were here for Stiles and the new Doctor seemed to be the main focus at the moment.

 

“I have been denied as most of the handlers they have tried to set me with did not want anyone with my abilities on their team Sir. I'm pretty sure Jenkins was blackmailed into taking me.”

 

“Well, be prepared to have a change of handlers soon. It will be nice working with you.”

 

Sam looked star struck. “Sir?”

 

Peter cleared his throat hoping to catch Alan's attention. Talia shot him a look that screamed keep your mouth closed. Rage bubbled in Peter's veins.

 

“Someone with your talent would make a fine addition to my team. I will be requesting you as soon as we find Stiles.”

 

And just like that everyone seemed to remember why they were here. Sam quickly swung around addressing Talia before mapping out what he could do to help find Stiles.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

“This isn't fucking working!” Someone shouts to Stiles left making the kid flinch back from the voice. The movement hurt more then the sharp yell. Everything hurt, breathing, moving, thinking. He didn't know how many days he had been here.

 

The darkness of the basement made it hard to track time. He spent more time blindfolded then not. His nose was working over time always trying to track where everyone was standing. His ears hypersensitive to sound.

 

The shift of someones feet, the brush of a hand against someone's clothes. Every sound echoed in Stiles ears.

 

“It's been nearly two weeks, this little shit isn't going to do what we want. Let's just cut are fucking losses and hand him over to the hunters already. At least that way we can get paid.”

 

Well. Stiles thought bitterly. At least he knew how long he'd been down here now.

 

“He's right Lucas, this kids not going to break. Plus fuck, the runes on the fucking collar keep fading. If we don't watch it close enough one day we're going to miss it and he'll have free range to use his magic.”

 

Stiles smiled at that. It was almost laughable, they really thought any silly rune with no extra magic behind it was going to hold his in? If he could just get them to leave him alone for a day it would fade away and he could get the hell out of here.

 

 

“He'll do it!” Lucas screams. Something gets kicked across the room, someone snarls.

 

“No, I'm pulling fucking rank. You had your chance, this fucking fox isn't going to do shit. You picked him for some stupid fucking revenge because you got kicked out of a pack. Well news flash dumbass the kids not going to break and least not for us. Now we are losing shit tones of money here each day we spend trying to get this kid to do what he's told.”

 

“We just haven't tried hard enough.”

 

“What the hell else to you want to try?” Someone else shouts out.

 

Stiles wanted to laugh. Lucas's big bad new pack were fighting like a bunch of children. At least Stiles had the luxury of not being beaten on for the moment. He's already had to grow back several teeth.

 

“Something! Anything!”

 

“We have stabbed him, cut him. Drowned him, broken bones burned patches of skin off his body. We are all out of ideas here. So unless you want to just outright kill him there really is no other option. I say we make some money off the fucking kid like we did the mage, and sell him to those hunter freaks.”

 

“We could probably get triple the amount for him.” Someone says happily from behind Stiles back.

 

“Fuck, fine. Call that Kate bitch and get her here then. Her and her freaky ass dad and their marry band of twisted fucks can have him.”

 

“Fucking thank you!”

 

Stiles was suddenly much more terrified. How bad could someone be if a group of werewolves that kill for fun are scared of someone? And they were scared, Stiles could smell their fear like it was his own.

 

He'd much rather stay with them.

 

“I'll do what you ask.” Stiles voice was so shredded from screaming if it wasn't for the enhanced hearing they probably wouldn't have heard him.

 

“To late kid. Already sent out the text. We're about to make two million off your ass. You're bullshit stubbornness isn't even fucking worth it.”

 

Stiles didn't even know if he should be insulted or not. It was saying something when your kidnappers didn't even want to keep you around.

 

“Please.” He hated that he was begging. Fucking hated it, but he didn't want to be sent to some hunters. At least not illegal ones, most of those people were blacklisted and sitting on most wanted lists.

 

“I almost feel bad for you.” Lucas suddenly laughs. “But then I think about Peter and what he must be feeling right now and I really can't muster up the emotion.”

 

Stiles spits in his face. Sure it hits when the man curses while his friends howl with laughter.

 

“He's going to rip you to fucking pieces. I hope you know that.”

 

“You stupid little shit.” A fist slams into is face, making his ears ring. “That bastard has no idea where you are. Not a fucking clue, we'll be long gone soon enough.”

 

Stiles laughs spitting out the blood that had collected in his mouth. “Better fucking run far.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter swears he has been staring at Sam sitting in the same spot for the last three days. He knows he hasn't but the man just went completely still as he worked that it was almost creepy. The pack had been hanging around a lot lately.

 

Derek and Laura had taken some time off from collage. Peter thought it was a good idea honestly. Derek has been so tense lately it wasn't a wonder he hadn't shattered by now. Everyone has taken the time to speak with him but the boy just wouldn't open up. At first Peter thought it was guilt. Though he was sure that played a small roll in it but that wasn't the main issue.

 

Derek's scent often smelled confused. Like he was trying to remember something but couldn't figure out what it was.

 

It wasn't till dinner did Peter finally get a clue on what was bothering his nephew.

 

“I keep smelling something familiar.” Derek blurts out as everyone eats. The table hasn't had its normal gusto of happy to it since Stiles went missing.

 

Talia glances up from her plate to look towards her son. She's frowning, everyone is these days. Peter see's Dr. Matthews home in on Derek from his spot and the far end of the table.

 

“What do you mean Derek?” James asks as he places his fork on the table to give his son his full attention. Everyone unconsciously does the same.

 

“When I remember that night. I swear I smell something familiar, for when I was a kid but I can't ever figure out what it is. Every time I try to focus on it I get distracted.”

 

“That's because your memory is more focused on what you were seeing instead of smelling.” Sam says his eyes staring right through Derek.

 

“When a person is attacked their main focus is always the eyes. What can you see? Colors, shapes, a face? Next is your ears, what are you hearing? A voice, the crack of weapon being swung, a scream? In most cases taste, touch and smell don't really come into play. It takes the mind much more focus to figure out a smell and the taste of something then it does a sound or movement.”

 

“So I won't be able to remember what I scented?”

 

“No, you can remember perfectly if you would like me to help with that?”

 

“How? Are you going to do whatever it is your magic does?” Derek looked suddenly worried about the idea of that man poking around in his mind.

 

“To an extend yes, but only if you want too of course.”

 

“Will it help Stiles?”

 

Sam looks thoughtful. “If I can pull the memory from your mind and walk through it with you we should be able to at least pin point the smell you keep stressing over.”

 

“Have you done that before?” Talia asks.

 

Sam nods. “Yes on many occasions. It's one of the main things I do for attack victims who have stress induced amnesia”

 

“I'll do it.”

 

“Very well then.” The doctor goes back to eating, as if they hadn't just been talking about digging into Derek's mind.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter found himself once again in the library. Only this time? It was dark and quite beside the breathing of the others in the room. Only Talia, James, Noah, Alan, Derek and of course Sam were present. Peter thinks if he listens hard enough he could hear Stiles laughter from when he was a child reading in here. Hiding behind a shelf safe in his own little world as he read.

 

Alan was their to watch the psychic in action. Peter tried to not be annoyed by that, but if the man was really thinking about adding Sam to his top secret government team he would have to see what he was made of.

 

“Now Derek I want you to remember. Nothing you are about to see can hurt you. It's only a memory, I will be their with you, focus on my voice. Do not listen to anything unless I tell you otherwise.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The pair was seated in the middle of the floor, legs cross arms relaxed in their laps. A mirror image of each other.

 

“Close your eyes.” Noah flinched at the haunting sound of the man's voice. The pitch had changed so much in tone that it didn't even seem like the same man was speaking.

 

 

“You're going to feel a push at your mind, don't fight in.” Derek swayed slightly.

 

“Open.” Sam says voice a mere hum of sound.

 

“Good.” The doctor tilts his head to the left as if listening for something. The fingers in his lap twitch.

 

“Tell me what you hear.” Sam says suddenly. No warning, just blurts out the question like no one is looking on confused.

 

Derek's head leans to the the right. “Stiles is talking.”

 

“Good, what is he talking about?”

 

A twitch of Derek's lips as if he wants to smile. “He's complaining about being sore.”

 

Peter smiles. Stiles had complained the whole night before the trip that he was going to be to sore to walk for miles. Even after his bath and deep tissue massage he was still trying to work the kinks out.

 

“Perfect. Now jump forward. You're at the lake. What are you and Stiles doing?”

 

Again Derek sways. “We're swimming.”

 

Sam tenses. “There's something at the edge of your vision Derek. To your left, what is it? I want you to look and tell me what it is.”

 

Derek's head tacks to the left. “It's a deer, she's getting a drink of water.” Sam continues on, firing off another question as soon as the answer leaves Derek's lips.

 

“Stiles is moving Derek, tell me what he's doing.” Peter frowns.

 

“He's getting his phone, he's taking a few pictures to show Peter.” Peter's heart tightens in his chest. There's a slight pause before Sam speaks again.

 

“You're done swimming now. What are you doing?” Sam asks, his once tense shoulders now relaxed.

 

“We're packing up to leave.” Derek frowns.

 

“No.” Sam suddenly says. His shoulders grow tense again. Peter shifts from his spot against the wall.

 

“I thought you and Stiles were going to go fishing?” The doctor probes. Using the story about what the boys were going to do for the day.

 

“We didn't fish.”

 

“Why not?” The doctor fires off.

 

Again Derek frowns. “We spent to much time swimming. Stiles says he's to hungry to fish.”

 

“Good. Do you eat?”

 

Derek relaxes. “Yes. Subs Stiles packed.”

 

The smell of contentment suddenly pours from Derek. “You're smiling at Stiles while you eat. Tell me why?”

 

Derek smiled. The look is dreamy, like a facial tick one would get during a dream. Talia watches her son from her desk. Chewing on her lips and tracking his every movement.

 

“He made my favorite.”

 

Peter again smiles. Of course Stiles made his favorite. That boy knew everyone's food preference better then the one eating it did. Peter glances up taking in the thoughtful look on Noah's face.

 

“You're packing up to leave, is it dark out yet?”

 

Derek's eyes shift behind his close lids. As if he was looking around himself. “No, but the sun is starting to set.”

 

“Why did you wait so long to leave?” Sam probes, the question were slow. Well thought out, each word that leaves Sam's mouth has Derek moving with the pitch of it. Peter is very interested in what else this man could do.

 

“Stiles wanted to take a picture of the sunset over the lake.”

 

Silly boy. Peter thinks fondly. Sometimes Peter swears Stiles spent more time taking pictures of the things around him then he did actually seeing them with his own eyes. ( I want to be able to look back on the beauty of the things I see.) Stiles had told him once as he snapped a picture of Peter leaning against the porch watching the sun rise.

 

“You're only a couple of miles from the house. Tell me what you hear?” Derek goes ridged, his back straightening so swiftly it pops.

 

“Stiles is laughing because he tripped over his feet.” Derek suddenly turns his head. “Someone's behind me.”

 

“No.” Sam says in the same haunting tone. “Don't look behind you. Focus on my voice Derek.”

 

Derek shutters. Peter shifts forward, Derek's voice had almost been frightened.

 

“Good. After Stiles trips what do you see in front of you?”

 

Derek's head jerks, as if fighting off the impulse to look behind him. “Someone's behind me.” He repeats.

 

“It's no one you need to worry about right this moment. Look at me Derek.” Derek's head shifts to his left closed eyes staring at nothing.

 

“Good, now what is in front of you?”

 

“Stiles.”

 

“Why is he in front of you and not beside you?”

 

Derek jerks. “I dropped back a few paces.”

 

“Why?” Sam demands. Voice rising ever so slightly. Peter is suddenly as tense as Derek. Noah is practically falling out his seat he is leaning so far forward towards the pair in the middle of the room.

 

“I don't know.”

 

“You do know. You and Stiles were walking beside each other until he trips. Why do you drop back a few paces?”

 

“I...” Derek freezes. “The hairs on my neck stood on end.”

 

“Then what?” Sam whispers. Derek's breathing kicks up.

 

“Someone's behind me.” That phrase would haunt Peter the rest of his life. Peter notices his sister flinching each time the words leave her sons mouth.

 

“Don't turn your head all the way. Slowly look to see what's coming. You can not hear anything. You can not smell anything. Tell me what you see.”

 

“An arm reaching towards my neck. There's a taser.”

 

“Look away.” Sam demands. Derek jerks his head away. “What do you smell?”

 

“Tree's, the dirt at my feet. Stiles.” Derek tenses again. “Stiles.... Stiles.”

 

“What is Stiles doing?”

 

“He's shouting.”

 

Peter has to stop himself from asking his own question.

 

“Derek, look out.” Derek jerks as if he's just been electrocuted. “I'm falling. Stiles is screaming. Someone's behind me.”

 

“Derek!” Sam suddenly shout making everyone jump. “Focus on me. You are fine. I am right beside you. It's okay. Focus.”

 

Sam waits a few moments. “There's a man moving towards Stiles, what do you see?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“No, you see something. Tell me what it is.” Sam corrects him.

 

“I don't see anything.” Derek whispers. “Please, there's someone behind me.” Talia shifts in her seat like she wants to move towards her son.

 

“Who's behind you Derek?” Sam finally asks, sensing the boys fear.

 

“He has on a mask.” Derek answer's, the smell of his fear rising. “I can't see his face.”

 

Sam's head tilts to the side, his body shifting with it. “His eye's Derek. You notice something what is it?”

 

The fear suddenly turns to rage. “Blue.”

 

“What's blue?”

 

“His eyes, they flare blue. He's killed an innocent.”

 

Peter steps forward shocked. They hadn't even considered the fact the kidnappers had been were. They hadn't shown any outward signs of it during the tapes he had watched. They had always stuck to guns and knives. Effectively keeping any suspicion away from the fact that they were supernatural.

 

Hell the cops and FBI hadn't even tested their DNA for such factors because of the use of weapons.

 

“I smell something.” Derek suddenly says. “I know it. I know it.”

 

“You can't hear nothing. See nothing, feel nothing.” Sam says. Derek sways again. “You can only scent the man behind you. Tell me Derek what do you smell?”

 

Derek pauses for a long moment, so long that Peter holds his breath. “Lucas.”

 

Peter snarls before he can control himself. Sam jerks, his eyes flying open the gray blue color flared bright green before settling.

 

Derek slowly begins to fall backwards, but the Doctor's quick hands keep him up right. “Just give it a minute and your world will stop spinning.”

 

“I'm fine.” Derek blinks hard before turning towards his mom. “It was Lucas mom. I'd know that smell anywhere.”

 

Peter knew all to well what Derek was referring to. Lucas's scent always had an underlining scent of copper. The man had always tried to mask it with sprays that smelled of tree sap and sandalwood.

 

“I believe you.”

 

“What was so distinctive about his scent that you picked it up over the smell of blood and fear. When I was walking through that with you I could use your senses. The emotion fear was so powerful I could hardly pick up the blood.”

 

Derek wrinkled his nose. “Lucas always smelled like old pennies.”

 

“Hmmm, well now we have a starting point at least. Does anyone know how to find this wolf?”

 

“No, I kicked him out of the pack eight years ago. Why wait so long to take Stiles if he was looking for some type of revenge?”

 

“This group needed a magic user of strong ability. Lucas undoubtedly thought of Stiles and pointed them in this direction.”

 

Peter snarls. “I'm going to kill him.”

 

“We have to find him first.” Noah says, voice seething with hate.

 

“Do we have a blood sample from him?” Sam asks.

 

“I do.” Deaton says, finally moving from his spot from across the room. “I have samples from everyone in the Hale pack. How long will it take you to pin point him?”

 

Sam thought for a moment. “If you can give me the sample in then next hour I can have it for you in about twenty minutes.”

 

“Wait. Why so fast with Lucas but not Stiles? You have been working on his sample for days.” Noah asks.

 

“Stiles is a very complicated being. He has so many DNA strains that I have to move slowly while filtering through them. Werewolves are easy, besides the small factors that makes them, them the DNA of a wolf is all the same. All I have to do is read the strains that aren't wolf.”

 

“I'll have them to you in fifteen minutes.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

True to his word twenty minutes after receiving sample Dr. Matthew's moved from the library towards the group seated on the couch. While the man worked the others had a game plan set in place. They couldn't all go and risk the entire pack.

 

They also couldn't take everyone who was capable of fighting in high stress situations. Peter was going. No matter the outcome, there wasn't a thing in this world that would allow him to stay way. Noah too was strapped down with several weapons and wolfsbane bullets. Another person going no matter what.

 

“You need to stay Talia.” James had said looking towards his wife. Oh Peter knew, everyone knew their Alpha wanted to go and slaughter Lucas. Not only for coming back to Beacon hills after he was banished but for touching and injuring her son. For taking Stiles.

 

Death was the only option for that man. They had already gotten the go head from the FBI as long as they brought someone back alive everyone else was fair game. There were several question that needed to be answered about the information they had stolen off the computer systems.

 

“I know.” Talia had answered.

 

“You're the Alpha, our pack has been attacked. Until it is resolved you can't leave Beacon Hills.” Alan said looking troubled.

 

“I know my role Alan, I will stay and protect my pack but Lucas dies, as for the others hand them over to the FBI.”

 

“I can't promise I won't kill them all.” Peter muttered. Talia cut her eyes towards him. Peter sighed. “Fine but Lucas is mine.”

 

“I expect nothing else.”

 

At some point Chris Argent and Allison was called in. Talia had of course informed the local hunter and his daughter about the hunt for wanted werewolves. They extra hands would help in the off chance that they were needed.

 

“I will be traveling with you as well, in case Stiles needs medical attention on scene. Two doctors is better then one.” Alan had said as he loaded his bag. Peter tried not to think about the fact that Stiles was possibly very hurt. After being gone for over two weeks it was unlikely he was uninjured.

 

“That's six of us, but Alan and Sam can't be apart of the fighting. Do you think we will need anymore hands for taking down five wolves?” That was assuming of course every person in the team was a wolf. They were only working on the assumption they were.

 

“I'm going too.” Talia had only spared her husband a small glance, a knowing smile on her face.

 

No other words had been able to be spoken when Sam came rushing into the room. “East.” He mumbled eyes dazed.

 

“Fifty miles east of here.” The man gave a slow drawn out blink.

 

“Load up.” Chris barked out shouldering a rifle before heading towards the door. “Allison and I came in two SUV's will take those. They are equipped with radios so we can speak to one another if needed.”

 

“Be careful.” Talia's voice follows them out the house.

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

Peter had to keep himself from continually glancing back towards the zone out doctor. He hadn't said another word since they had gotten in the cars and taken off. Twenty minutes into the drive Peter was suddenly unsure of the man's odd mental tracking skills.

 

Until he suddenly spoke. “In a mile turn right.”

 

Chris tensed at the sudden voice in the quite car. Besides Peter, Chris and Sam no one else had road with them. The three of them hadn't really had much to say to one another.

 

When the turn came into view Chris signaled a few moments earlier then needed so James would know what was happening. Seeing as the man was the one behind the wheel of Allison's SUV. Peter was still amused his brother in law even had the balls to ask the young hunter to drive.

 

“In a quarter of a mile turn left.” Peter was suddenly picturing a GPS speaking to them instead of the blank face doctor.

 

“I'm curious to what else he can do.” Chris says, finally breaking the long spell of no conversation.

 

“I too am wondering the same thing, then again surely a gift like that has it's down falls. I wonder if he keeps the memories of the minds he has entered.”

 

Chris shuddered. “God I would hope not. Can you imagine some of the things he has seen because of his job?”

 

By the vacant look in Grant's eyes, Peter didn't even want to imagine what he had been through to look like that. He certainty didn't want anyone to have to see it first hand through a memory. It had been hard enough for Stiles to dream walk. Peter could only assume what Sam did was far worse.

 

“Nothing I would want to experience first hand that's for sure.”

 

“Right turn in a mile, then take another left in half a mile.”

 

Chris sighed. “If I'm honest, I really hadn't thought this was going to work. I've never heard of a mental psychic before, it seems a bit to good to be true with what he can do.”

 

“Which part, the psycho radar or the part where he can literally pull hard facts from someone's mind?”

 

“All of it? I don't understand really. I get the fact he can get into someones mind, but the purpose of him needing DNA to do it is what throws me.”

 

Peter hums thoughtfully. “A safety mechanism perhaps? Not for the doctor of course but for the rest of us? There are no mind readers recorded. Then again Dr. Matthews isn't reading the minds of other. He's going into them and relieving memories, pulling out pieces their minds glossed over as unimportant or something they didn't catch the first time because of heavy emotion.”

 

“How much did Derek miss?”

 

Peter frowned. “He over looked the flare of blue eyes. He realized he smelled something and it had been bothering him.”

 

Chris hummed. “Well I guess it's a good thing you and Noah found this doctor.”

 

“That was nothing but dumb luck.”

 

*-*-*-*-*

 

They stopped one block from the abandoned warehouse. Not only did they not what to give away the fact they were here but the good doctor had snapped out of his trance as soon as they got close enough.

 

Now they were slowly creeping around the building. Alan and Sam hanging back in the cover of trees as to not get in the way. Both were armed on the off chance someone escaped. It was unlikely with how much rage was filtering off everyone but it never hurt to be safe.

 

There wasn't much around. Tree's and the old building that looked as if it would fall in on it's self with the wrong shift of the wind. Peter moved silently along the outside of the building, easily picking up little sounds from the inside.

 

He could hear the others behind him but couldn't smell them. Once again being doused in the scent blocker. Peter was suddenly glad Deaton had created the stuff. It came in handy in hunting situations.

 

“Hurry the fuck up.” Someone hissed from within. A voice Peter didn't recognize.

 

“Shut it Marcus, I don't see your ass moving fast either.” A rough draw answered. Peter breathed deeply, he filtered out the sent of the five wolves and all were definitely werewolves. Peter raised a hand to signal as much. James could much do it seeing as the man was in his shift form.

 

Under the smell of wolf was, Peter's feet almost flattered. Stiles, his blood, his fear. Sweat and tears. The scent was still thick in the air.

 

“I want to be long gone soon damn it!” Peter bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snarling, Lucas. The fucking coward. Planning to flee already? Peter didn't think so. The group stopped just outside the doors. Kneeling low to the ground, Noah and Chris had their guns at the ready.

 

Chris raised a hand throwing a few signs towards a cove of tree's signaling for Allison to get ready. The girl sat on a perch in a tree, sniper rifle poised and ready to fire. To fast beams of green flash from the girls position. She had her sights on the door.

 

Chris tilted his head towards the door, Peter was up and kicking the thing in at the next moment. Shouts from within sounding. Someone made a mad dash for an open window. With a wild snarl James took chase, the man was pinned down and shouting his surrender when the wolfs teeth locked around his throat.

 

Two shots rang out as Noah took down a man running towards the back. Shattering both his knee caps. Peter didn't watch anything more when his eyes landed on Lucas. With a roar he tackled the guy to the ground. Satisfied when he heard the snap on the mans wrist. His rage took hold, strength he didn't even know he possessed had him ripping the mans arm off.

 

Blood gushed, a scream of pain.

 

Peter leaned impossibly close to the mans ear, enjoying his fear. “You shouldn't have touched my mate.”

 

His head was gone in the next second. Peter stood, kicking the bastards head across the floor before moving toward the four wolves tied up in the middle of the room. Wolfsbane rope.

 

“Where is Stiles!? Where's the hell is my son?” Noah lashed out the butt of his gun slamming into the side of the mans head.

 

Peter's eyes quickly scanned the room. Noticing the set of stairs that lead below Peter quickly made his way down. Stiles sent was stronger, his blood heavy in the air. But when Peter got there all he found was an empty chair. Bloody chains and rope, blood splattered on the floor.

 

An old rusty sink filled with dark dirty water. On further inspection Peter quickly found out why the water was so dark. Blood floated at the surface. His eyes took in more of the room, taking in the teeth on the floor, vomit and piss.

 

But no Stiles.

 

Peter quickly rushed back up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He wrapped his hands around the first throat he was closest too.

 

“Where is Stiles?” Peter mimicked voice deathly quite.

 

“Fuck you.” The man spat. Peter broke his arm, easily shattering the bones under his hand. The man wailed.

 

“Tell me.” The other wolves were growling around him, the one to his left snapped his teeth at Peter's face. Jame rushed forward with a snarl, his large jaw locked around the mans leg. He shook his head wildly. Peter blocked out the fuckers screams.

 

“He's gone.”

 

Peter broke his other arm. “Gone where?!”

 

The man cried out. “Kate and Gerard Argent!” The wolf screamed. “We sold him to Kate.”

 

Peter's head snapped up his eyes locking with Chris's the man had gone deathly pale. If Peter was honest the man looked green and he smelled of rage. Cold blooded rage.

 

“Where did they go?” Chris asks voice taking on a tone Peter had never heard before.

 

“I don't know.” Peter nodded, letting Chris know the man wasn't lying. “I didn't ask, I just took the money and handed over the boy.”

 

“Why?” Noah asked.

 

“It was easy money, plus that kid wouldn't do what we asked. Little shit was to stubborn, kept taunting us. Fucker would just smirk and laugh in our faces, he would scream like a bitch but he always came back smiling.”

 

The man gave an odd wild smile. “Honestly the kid was fucking amazing, I've seen grown men piss themselves with less torture then that kid took.”

 

Peter snarled but held back from killing him. The FBI could have their asses.

 

“Why Stiles?” Peter heard himself ask.

 

The wolf grunted. “We need a magic user a strong one, that Lucas fucker said the kid had so crazy ass magic. I didn't want him to be honest, werefoxes are to much of a wild card but when he said it was revenge who was I to deny my pack mate. Plus it was suppose to be easy money, go in and do what we were hired for then walk away with millions of dollars.”

 

Peter frowned. “Someone hired you?”

 

“Yea man, look I'm not saying I get don't get kick out of the shit we do but no way in hell was I saying no to the boss. Dude is wicked scary.”

 

Chris's eyes narrow. “Who is the boss? The one that calls the shots for you lot?”

 

The wolf tensed. “Nah, I'm done talking. Take my ass to jail I don't care, kill me even any death by your hands is better then the shit that man will do.”

 

“We could torture you, like you did my mate.” Peter growls out.

 

“Look, the kid was taken about twelve hours ago, they headed back towards Beacon Hills. I know Kate and those sick fucks have a base somewhere there. That's were they took the mage, that's were they will take your kid. I'll go to jail that cool, it has to be better then the shit holes we lived in.”

 

“Why are you giving up this information so freely?” Chris says eyes narrowed.

 

“Look my boss is crazy scary yea? Well he runs those God's servant fuckers too. Have you meet Kate and Gerard those two are some twisted SOB's. That's three people right there I very much don't want to be around. Plus look I had a job to do, I wasn't going to let anyone get in my way knocking around a kid isn't my go to pass time, not really a fan to be honest. But shit, I didn't want to be a play thing for any of those people. Neither did any of these assholes tied to me. Lucas on the other hand, yea that shit had some problems with him.”

 

“Tell me what you know.” Peter demands. Might as well get any and all information out of him while he could. Since the guy seemed to be in such a chatty mood.

 

“All I know is my boss.” The wolf stresses the last word. “Pay's the servant freaks to kidnap magic users. They toss some bullshit about it being about purification but it's really all about the big picture. Getting to the top, are you following me here? And when I mean the top I mean the very fucking top.”

 

“Are you saying we have a trader in the government?” Noah asked.

 

“Like that's a big fucking surprise. Look here's a hint he's in congress and he's dirty, dirtier then even me and that's saying something. He got pissed a couple years back about losing some race so he starting cheating. Best way to cheat without getting caught? Magic, but he can't just go out and start mingling with a bunch of magic users. No that would be noticed. So he hired a bunch of folks hunters who had been blacklisted. Americas most wanted freak shows, the find a mark they kidnap them then they are tortured till they do something to help. They took a fairy once, you know since they have magic that kinda works like luck. Amazing shit happens when you've been blessed by a fairy. He climbed up quite a bit with her.”

 

The guy sighs. “Then he need more, he need distractions. Best way to distract a bunch of special agents poking around and asking question? A group of men suddenly robbing a lot of government buildings. He hired us, a homeless fucking pack he saw once while sitting his chunky ass down eating a big greasy burger. Was paying us great money too, then we started needing magic users of are own because of the rise of magic sealed buildings. Once we were done with them we sell them to Kate. It's a viscous cycle to be honest. The only plus side is he hasn't figured it out yet he's paying us twice. One when he sets up a job and again when we get rid of the magic user we needed.”

 

“Get ready to repeat all that shit again.” Chris barks out. “The FBI is going to want to know.”

 

“Yea man whatever.” The wolf glanced around. “Which one is Peter?”

 

Peter raised a brow. “Me, not that, that really matters to you.”

 

“Huh, well I just wanted to let you know, that kid? He was some scary crazy faith in you. He looked Lucas dead in the eyes so many times going on and on about how you were going to fucking rip him apart.” The wolf glanced towards the dead man. “Shit, kid wasn't kidding. You grinned each time he said it too.”

 

The FBI slowly started to filter into the warehouse.

 

Peter turned to leave. “Oh yea one more thing.” Peter stopped turning towards the tied up bundle of wolves.

 

“For what it's worth I know they stay underground. The place is heavily warded, but what I saw with that kids magic all those wards to hide them are going to fail. Couldn't keep a rune on that kid no matter what we tried. One hell of a spark if you ask me, one fine Celestial Kitsune too it a hell of a mixture.”

 

Peter and Noah jerked back around. “What did you call him?”

 

“A Celestial Kitsune, you know all good and pure and shit. The opposite of the Nogitsuni, they are crazy more powerful then that dark bastard too. Kid could rule the world if he wanted.”

 

“Seriously.” The wolf shouted as Peter and Noah turned to leave once more. Only this time they kept walking. For a man who was about to be in prison the guy could talk like there was no tomorrow. Then again if his boss finds out he's in FBI holding he might not.

 

“Watch the fucking stars! They will tell you were the kid is.”

 

Peter would file that thought away for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I wasn't originally going to call Stiles a Celestial Kitsune, but a wonderful comment got me thinking so I ran with it. I was going to go with what I have in as in my other story. So thank you to NAWennerholm1973 I'm going to dedicate this chapter to you and the next one because it gave me such a wonderful idea. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys the chapter.


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